CONVERTED EX LIBRIS THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA FROM THE FUND ESTABLISHED AT YALE IN 1927 BY WILLIAM H. CROCKER OF THE CLASS OF 1882 SHEFFIELD SCIENTIFIC SCHOOL YALE UNIVERSITY THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER NEW ENGLAND MINISTER y^ 7. fipt^<'-^->-^^^^—^ Theodore Thornton Munger NEW ENGLAND MINISTER By BENJAMIN WISNER BACON NEW HAVEN: YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS LONDON: HUMPHREY MILFORD OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS MCMXIII V Copyright, 1913 By Yale University Press Printed November, 1913, 1000 copies THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER The world's clear colors fade into the gray, The sunset holds its softened lamps to show A glory-Kghted path for him, and so The gentle prophet passes on his way. No strange and lonely road his feet will stray; Too often on the vision height, we know He stood above the valleys dim and low. And saw the glory of the King's highway. Love followed to the border-land of death. Cheered the last days, upheld the failing strength, And whispered o'er the grave its soft farewell. Love is its own interpreter to tell That he has found life's freedom, breadth, and length, And breathes with vigors of eternal breath. Robert Charles Denison. 646497 PREFACE A constantly reiterated remark of those qualified to speak of Theodore Thornton Munger and his service to his generation was to the effect that his personal character and daily life gave added weight to the influence of his writings and pulpit utterances. A biography, therefore, seemed called for in the interest not only of the large circle who knew and loved him, and would gladly supplement their remembrance from a fuller record, but also in the interest of the far larger circle in many lands who knew him only from his published writings. The question could only be as to the character of the work. This question, too, is determined by the nature of Dr. Munger's service. For while he has claims to a place of remembrance among our New England theologians, having much of the spirituality and insight of Bushnell, whose disciple he was ; while his ideals and service in the field of letters were such as to give him a place among the essayists and the litterateurs of New England, still he was preeminently the typical New England minis- ter, a servant of the churches, perpetuating in every feature of his life's work that worthy Puritan succes- viii PREFACE sion to which he belonged by birth, by disposition, by training, and by the whole divine shaping of his life. The present work, therefore, aims to be purely and simply a biography — the life-story of a New England minister. The mass of remaining correspondence is immense. The letters to Mulford alone would fill a modest volume. Yet it is not a "Life and Letters" wliich we present. Of dramatic incident there is almost nothing. The reader's sympathies will be called forth neither by adventure nor by martyrdom. It is the simple story of a noble ideal faithfully and successfully pursued. Yet success of this kind, suc- cess in the ministry, is not so common that the lack of dramatic quality should deprive our narrative of value. The problem of the churches, especially that of the free and progressive churches of the democratic Congregational order, is acute. The movements of our time toward unity in liberty depend for their suc- cess, as Munger saw, upon a system combining con- tinuity with catholicity. But the problem of the church on its practical side is largely a problem of the ministry. This in its education, its ideals, its practice, must reflect some at least of the qualities which char- acterized the life we here describe. And if dramatic incident be lacking as regards out- ward movement, the record of the times will appear PREFACE ix not uneventful to those who appreciate the vast change of rehgious thought in our generation. The New England theology of the past had its centre at New Haven. From Edwards to Taylor and Harris it attempted only "improvements" on the Calvinistic system. Bushnell marked the beginnings of a larger growth, and Munger followed in his footsteps. He counted himself neither critic, ecclesiastic, nor theo- logian. Yet he was far from disregarding their part in religious development. He definitely assigned this work to the university, and called upon church and university alike to renew the alliance of the old colo- nial days. For himself he took the part of parish minister ; and in the fulfilment of this ideal faithfully, consistently, and bravely, there was conflict enough. He was loyal to the broader, freer, more catholic spirit of Old Congregationalism, in days when the current set strongly toward a "denominational" ideal. In the part thus played there was no lack of significant inci- dent for those who believe in the "variety in unity" of the New England churches, and pray for the coming of the spiritual unity of a church both free and catholic. In the task thus set for the biographer, the most difficult part has been the sifting of material. Acknowledgment should be made to the many friends X PREFACE whose names appear in connection with the extracts embodied in the volume, as well as to many more who rendered like service, though their letters have found no room. Above all must the biographer acknowl- edge his indebtedness to jMrs. Hunger, and to the daughter who, after years of loving service to lier father, has rendered efficient aid by placing all her material and her cooperation at the disposal of the biographer. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE Preface vli Chronology xiii List of Published Works xvii I. Early Years, 1830-1847 1 11. College Days, 1847-1851 30 III. Training and Ordination for the Ministry, 1852-1855 60 IV. First Years in the Ministry, 1856-1860 . . 93 V. War and Reconstruction, 1861-1869 ... 129 VI. Widening Influence, 1870-1874 .... 169 VII. The Mantle of Bushnell, CaKfornia, 1875-1877 201 VIII. Pastor and Teacher, North Adams, 1877-1885 235 IX. Church Building, New Haven, 1885-1900 . . 275 X. Retirement, New Haven, 1901-1910 ... 319 XI. Appreciations 353 Index 401 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER 1830. March 5. Birth in Bainbridge, N. Y. 1836. Removal of family to Homer, N. Y. 1846. Entered Western Reserve College at Hudson, Ohio. 1847. Entered Yale CoUege. 1848. July 2. United with Yale College Church. 1851. Was graduated from Yale College. 1852. Entered Yale Divinity School. 1854. July 12. Was licensed to preach. 1855. Finished Yale Divinity School Course. 1855. Entered Andover Theological Seminary. 1856. February 6. Ordained Pastor of Village Church, Dorchester, Mass. 1860. September 1. Resigned from Village Church. 1861, 1862, 1863. Preached in many places near Boston and served churches in Jamaica Plain and Haver- hill, Mass. 1864. January 6. Installed Pastor of Centre Church, Haverhill, Mass. 1864. October 12. Was married in Haverhill to Elizabeth K. Duncan. 1869. November 28. Resigned from Centre Church. xiv CHRONOLOGY December, 1869, to April, 1871. Supplied in High Street Church, Providence, R. I. 1871. June 14. Installed Pastor of Eliot Church, Law- rence, Mass. 1875. January. Resigned from Ehot Church. 1875. February. Went to Cahfornia in search of health. 1875. May. Organized Church in San Jose, Cahfornia. 1876. August. Resigned from Church in San Jose. October, 1876, to July, 1877. Served Church in East Hart- ford, Conn. 1877. December 11. Installed Pastor of Church in North Adams, Mass. 1883. Received Degree of D.D. from IlHnois College. 1885. November 19. Installed Pastor of United Church, New Haven, Conn. 1886. October 3. Death of Elizabeth Duncan Munger. 1886-1887. American Board Controversy. 1887. Made Fellow of Yale University. 1889. March 5. Married Harriet King Osgood of Salem, Mass. 1898. Lecturer at Harvard University. 1900. Resigned from United Church. 1901. Made Pastor Emeritus of United Church. 1904. Received Degree of D.D. from Harvard University. 1905. Elected Member of American Institute of Arts and Letters. 1905. Resigned from Fellowship of Yale University. CHRONOLOGY xv 1908. Received Degree of D.D. from Yale University. 1910. January 11. Death in New Haven. 1910. November 1. Dedication of Memorial Tablet in Woolsey Hall, Yale University. 1911. January 15. Dedication of Tablet in United Church. SELECTED WRITINGS 1860. Article, "The Revival," in The Congregationalist. 1870. Book, "Memorial of James Henry Duncan." Privately printed. Article, "A National Conference," in The Con- gregationalist. 1872. Five articles, "The Lesson of the Strikes," in The Congregationalist. 1874. Article, "The Forgiveness of Sins," in The Corir gregationalist. 1875. Article, "Concerning Maxims," in Scribner's Monthly. 1876. Sermon, "Commemorative of Dr. Horace Bush- NELL," in The Pacific. 1877. Statement of Belief before North Adams Council, North Adams Transcript. 1880. Address, "Vitality, Character, Inspiration," at Andover Theological Seminary, in The Inde- pendent. Book, "On the Threshold, Familiar Addresses to Young People," Boston and New York, Hough- ton Mifflin Company. xviii SELECTED WRITINGS 1881. Sermon, "John the Baptist and Carlyle," in The Independent. Address, "The Relation of Woman to Society," Commencement at Bradford Academy, in Haver- hill Gazette. 1882. Address, "The Sunday-School a Contributoe to the Church," before Massachusetts Sunday- School Convention. Sermon, "The Influence of Longfellow upon American Life," in The Independent. 1883. Book, "The Freedom of Faith," Boston and New York, Houghton Mifflin Company. Book, "Lamps and Paths," Boston and New York, Houghton Mifflin Company. 1884. Article, "Then and Now," in The Independent. 1885. Sermon, "The Character of General Grant," in The Evangelist. Article, "Immortality and Modern Thought," in The Century (reprinted in "The Appeal to Life"). Article, "Life Not Death the Order of Human- ity," in The Independent. Statement of Belief before Council in New Haven. Sermon, "The Gates of the Church," first sermon as pastor of United Church. 1886. Article, "Evolution and the Faith," in The Cen- tury (reprinted in "The Appeal to Life"). SELECTED WRITINGS xix Article, "Personal Impressions of Dr. Elisha MuiiFORD," in The Independent. 1887. Book, "The Appeal to Life," Boston and New York, Houghton Miffin Company. Chapter on "Study and Pulpit" in "Parish Prob- lems." Address, "The Relation of Education to Social Progress," Psi Upsilon Convention in Hartford, in The Century. Article, "Some Features of the American Board Controversy," in The Christian Union. 1888. Article, "Religion's Gain from Science," in The Forum. Article, "The Works of Elisha Mulford," in The Century. Article, "The University and the Bible," in The Century. Article, "Immigration by Passport," in The Cen- tury. 1889. Article, "What Is the Missionary Doing.?" in The Forum. 1890. Sermon, "Salvation by Fellowship," in The Chris- tian Union. 1892. Sermon, "Historical Discourse at 150th Anni- versary of the LTnited Church in New Haven." Article, "Hints on Exegetical Preaching," in The Homiletic Review. XX SELECTED WRITINGS Article, "The Religious Influence of Whittier," in The Christian Union. Article, "Recent Changes in Religious Thought," in The Christian Union. 1893. Sermon, "Phillips Brooks," in New Haven Journal and Courier. Article, "The Family as a Factor in Society," in The Congregationalist. 1894. Articles, "How to Get on in the World," in The Golden Rule. 1895. Article, "Oliver Wendell Holmes," in The New World. Article, "Music, Heavenly Maid," in The Century (included in "Essays for the Day" under the name "Reflections of a Layman on Music). Sermon before National Conference of Charities and Correction, published in Lend a Hand. 1896. Booklet, "The Rights of Dumb Animals," pub- lished first in The Christian World, London, and afterwards by the Connecticut Humane Society. Chapter on Dr. Bushnell in "The Prophet of the Christian Faith," published first in The Outlook. 1897. Book, "Character through Inspiration and Other Papers," Boston and New York, Houghton Mifflin Company. Booklet, "Plain Living and High Thinking," New York, W. B. Ketcham. SELECTED WRITINGS xxi 1898. Address, "The Message of Christ to the Will," Noble Lecture at Harvard and afterwards pub- lished in "The Message of Christ to Manhood." 1899. Book, "Horace Bushnell, Preacher and Theo- logian," Boston and New York, Houghton Mifflin Company. 1900. Chapter in book, "The Atonement in Modern Religious Thought," by Frederic Godet, pub- lished by Thomas Whittaker, New York. Sermon, "The Pastorate of Rev. Eleazer May," at 200th Anniversary of Church in Haddam, Conn. 1901. Sermon, "The Municipal Church," last sermon in active pastorate. Sermon at the 100th Anniversary of the Church in Homer, N. Y. 1902. Article, "Where We Are," in The Congregation- alist. Article, "A Cock to ^sculapius," in The Outlook (included in "Essays for the Day"). Article, "The Divinity School and the Univer- sity," in The Outlook and reprinted as booklet. Sermon at the 75th Anniversary of the Church in North Adams. Article, "The Secret of Horace Bushnell," in The Outlook (included in "Essays for the Day"). Article, "Aphorisms of Horace Bushnell," in The Congregationalist. xxii SELECTED WRITINGS 1903. Article, "The Church ; Some Immediate Ques- tions," in The Atlantic Monthly (included in "Essays for the Day"). Article, "Notes on 'The Scaelet Letter,' " in The Atlantic Monthly (included in "Essays for the Day"). 1904. Book, "Essays for the Day," Boston and New York, Houghton Mifflin Company. Address, "Organization a Factor in the Minis- try," at ordination of Rev. Frank K. Sanders, and published in Yale Divinity Quarterly. 1905. Introduction to "Telling Bible Stories," by Louise Seymour Houghton, published by Charles Scrib- ner's Sons, New York. Article, "Early Candlelight," in The Congrega- tionalist. Article, "A Significant Biography," in The Atlan- tic Monthly. Article, "Why I Believe in Foreign Missions," in The Envelope Series. 1906. Article, "An Old-Time Hero," in The Congre- gationalist. Article, "Henry Drummond," in The Homiletic Review. 1907. Article, "Robert Burns," in Appleton's Magazine. Article, "Longfellow, the Poet of the People," in The Congregationalist. SELECTED WRITINGS xxiii Article, "Shakespeare of Warwickshire," in The Atlantic Monthly. 1908. Article, "Dr. Nathaniel Taylor," in The Congre- gationalist. CHAPTER I EARLY YEARS 1830-1847 New England has many apostolic successions. Among the worthiest of those which are traced by- mere outward and physical descent is that of John Eliot, graduate of Cambridge (England) in 1623, missionary to the Indians of Massachusetts and pas- tor in Roxbury from 1632 to 1690. In the fifth generation of direct descendants of this "Apostle John," on July 22, 1794, was born Ebenezer, the father of Theodore Thornton Munger, in Madison (formerly East Guilford), Conn., and was given his father's name. Other lines of distinction in New England ancestry, descending from governors and builders of the Commonwealth, combined with that of Eliot in the ancestry of Ebenezer Munger, but Eliot "the apostle" had chief reverence. As described by the son, Theodore Thornton, of whom we write, Ebenezer Munger, Jr., was of stal- wart frame and singular dignity and serenity of bearing. The son's memory of his father, extending i8 ■•';•'.• ;1:KJ::0D0RE THORNTON MUNGER over a period of almost sixty years, included "not a word that was not kind in our home, nor a hard word outside, nor anything not comporting with good will, dignity and the bearing of a gentleman." Ebenezer Hunger's nature was profoundly religious, yet free from the rigidity and dogmatism that characterized too many of his contemporaries. It found congenial expression in humane service rather than in doctrinal teaching, a lay ministry doubtless all the more effec- tive because given by one whose professed calling was that of physical healing. The Mungers had been for generations plain farmers of Guilford, and the exceptional refinement of one member of the family is not explained merely by the fact of a college and professional education. Rather the providing of these exceptional opportuni- ties is itself a fact that calls for explanation. It was due to the influence of Rev. John Eliot, D.D., a graduate of Yale in 1786 and himself also a direct descendant in the fourth generation of the apostle to the Indians. Eliot became pastor in 1791 of the church in East Guilford and, like many of his col- leagues, made it part of his duty as a minister to select the most promising lads in his parish and prepare them for college. In this case the lad was one of his own remoter kin, the common ancestor being Rev. EARLY YEARS 3 Joseph Eliot, son of the apostle, who after gradua- tion at Harvard in 1658 had settled as minister in Guilford. This special selection and training was of course intended to provide (in the phraseology of the time) "a worthy and learned succession in the ministry." Doubtless in this case the pastor selected with dis- crimination. Ebenezer Hunger had plenty of native wit and ability; but the dignity and refinement so clearly marked in the pupil's character were qualities not of mere deportment but ingrained in the moral fibre of the man. They must have been mainly a product of the personal training and example of the teacher.' The miscarriage of the good dominie's loyal pur- pose thus to provide for the future service of the church was due to no fault either of the lad, or of those to whom he owed the advantages of an educa- tion at Yale. Ebenezer Hunger's whole nature gave sympathetic response to the influences thus brought to bear upon it. His after life was given to a Christ- like ministration to souls as well as bodies. The fault 1 Dr. John Eliot is described as "a good classical scholar, a correct, serious preacher, a wise, judicious and exemplary man, dignified in his manner, greatly esteemed by his own people, by his brethren in the ministry and by his numerous acquaintances." Sprague's "Annals," II, 331. 4 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER lay with that persistent tendency of all forms of reli- gious life to cr5''stallize in conventional types, which soon become, consciously or unconsciously, a standard of measurement. The religious conceptions of the time demanded an "experience" corresponding to the requirements of the current interpretation of Calvin- ism. Deep and earnest as was the soul-conflict through which Ebenezer Munger passed in the great revival which stirred the college during his student years, genuine and loyal as was his surrender to the service of Christ, he could not "come out" among those who professed assurance of their "election." Under these circumstances the ministry could no longer come under consideration, and after gradua- tion in 1814 Eliot's protege became a tutor in a family in New Rochelle, N. Y., for a period of two years, and thereafter engaged for two further years in the study of medicine in the College of Physicians and Surgeons in New York City, where he received the degree of M.D. in 1818. It may be conjectured that Ebenezer Plunger's acquaintance with Cjmthia Selden, who on the last day of the year 1818 became his wife, had its begin- ning in his undergraduate years. For Cynthia, daughter of Rev. David Selden (Yale 1782) of Middle Haddam, Conn., was twenty- two years of EARLY YEARS 5 age at the time of Ebenezer's graduation^ and had attended boarding school, together with her sister, in New Haven. In the same year that the young medi- cal student received his New York degree, we find him consulting the Rev. David Selden by letter as to the availability of Haddam as a place of settlement for a young physician ; and as the reply is a dissuasion of the applicant, we may suspect that the minister's daughter had as much to do with the young man's choice of this unfavorable location as the sani- tary needs of the parish. On December 31 of the same year, at all events, the bride was brought to the new home in Haddam. Cynthia Selden inherited, in higher degree than her husband, the quahties and traditions of the New England ministry; and this not on her father's side alone. Her mother, Cynthia May Selden, was the daughter of Rev. Eleazer May (Yale 1752), pastor for forty-seven years of the First Church in Haddam, Conn.,^ and this Cynthia, like her daughter after her, had but crossed the river to her husband's roof; for the parish of Middle Haddam, where Cynthia May Selden had trained her daughter in the ways becom- 2 She was born in Chatham, Conn., March 14, 1791. 3 Eleazer May, born in Wethersfield in 1733, was a descendant of John May, born in Sussex in 1590. He married Sibyl Hmitington of Lebanon, Conn., in 1754. 6 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER ing a minister's household, lies on the east bank but a very few miles above Hadlyme, the ancestral home of the Seldens since the settlement of this portion of the state/ Both inwardly and outwardly the descendant of this old Connecticut stock of whom we write seemed to gravitate toward the home of his ancestors. During his college days at Yale, and later when settled over Massachusetts parishes, he took interest and pleasure in visiting the scenes of his parents' early life, and more particularly the picturesque farming villages on the Connecticut River, where many of his Selden relatives continued to live. For it was with the Seldens that Theodore Hunger felt the bond of deeper affinity. His chief spiritual confidante in boyhood was his mother, and she remained such long after his father's death in 1857, his letters to her reporting regularly in this period all the vicissitudes and aspirations of his ministry down to her death in 1868. 4 Thomas Selden of Hartford was the first of the name in America. The only other emigrants of the name, so far as known, were Isaac, who settled in Windsor, Conn., in 1639, leaving no issue, and John, who came to Virginia in 1690. Thomas Selden was one of the original company who came to Hartford with Thomas Hooker in 1636. Joseph Selden, youngest son of Thomas the emigrant, bought of Governor Levcrett in January, 1695, a large tract of land situated in the towns of Lyme and Haddam. This settlement became the seat of the Selden family, and from its border location received the name of Hadlyme. EARLY YEARS 7 The old-time sturdy democracy of New England, while appreciative of its own blue blood, looks askance at pride of ancestry unsupported by corre- sponding personal worth. In like manner New Eng- land Puritanism is intolerant of every kind of eccle- siastical aristocracy. The qualities of the typical New England minister may in part explain them- selves to the genealogist in terms of tradition and descent, but Congregational ordaining councils are not thus minded. Their apostolic succession is ever traced, "not after the flesh, but after the spirit." The true New England minister is such by the grace of God and in his own right, if at all. His priesthood is that of Melchizedek "without father, without mother, without a genealogy." To justify the title, "New England Minister," we must turn, then, to a more spiritual succession. Theodore Thornton was the fifth child of Ebenezer and Cynthia Selden Hunger, and was born March 5, 1830, not in Connecticut, but on the banks of the Susquehanna, at Bainbridge, Chenango County, N. Y. For three years the young physician, Ebenezer, had been content to remain among the pic- turesque rocks and wooded hills of his wife's ancestral home, where the great river of New England, as if loath to leave the beauty of her granite cliffs, winds 8 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER in and out among the most seductive glens and reaches of all its course before losing itself a few miles below in the sea. The records of the "Young Men's Bible and JNIissionary Society" of Haddam in the years 1819 and 1820 show that if the young doctor found small occasion for his medical skill, he could find and avail himself of opportunities to promote the moral and religious welfare of the community, though both he and his wife were still outside the formal membership of the church. These were the days when hardy settlers from New England were rapidly occupying the still virgin territory of the Military Tract (as it was called) of central and southern New York. Lands granted in 1782 by the State of New York to soldiers of the Revolution had remained but sparselj^ settled until, at the close of the War of 1812, a company of New England emigrants cut down the thick forests and planted the rich meadows on the central plateau of the state. To this region of new settlements by the upper waters of the Susquehanna and Chenango rivers, Ebenezer Hunger felt himself irresistibly drawn. The young physician, as the son has phrased it, "was himself seized with a fever for which neither his medicines nor the tears of his wife availed. It was a contagious and widely spread disease, and was EARLY YEARS 9 known as the Western fever. "^ The young couple, with an infant daughter, Cjmthia, born to them in Haddam, September 24, 1819, traveled by wagon to the little town of Bainbridge, and settled there for a period of fifteen years on a farm extending to the very brink of the broad Susquehanna. Six children were born here, David Selden (December 25, 1824), Elizabeth Selden (October 4, 1826), John Hunt- ington (February 26, 1828), Theodore Thornton (March 5, 1830), John Hezekiah (April 22, 1832), and Edward Payson (January 24, 1834). Of these Elizabeth and John died too early to be remembered by the next younger, save for the grief of his parents witnessed at the parting from the little graves. For in 1836 Ebenezer Munger, feeling the need of better schools for his boys, removed to Homer, N. Y. Though Theodore was but six years of age at this time of removal, memories of Bainbridge and the river remained permanently impressed upon his mind. His first experience of fear came when, stray- ing to the river bank, his childish feet turned back with instinctive sense of peril when but a step from death. His first conscious sense of beauty was awak- ened by the gleam of firelight on steel, as the skaters 5 Address at the two hundredth anniversary of Haddam Congrega- tional Church, 1900, p. 70. 10 THEODORE THORNTON IMUNGER flashed on a wintry night past the fires built here and there on the wide expanse of ice. From the windows of the porch the little boy watched with dreamj^ eyes in spring the great rafts go floating by laden with boards and logs and topped with a shanty for the crew. And scarcely later than this first sense of fear, welded with that of beauty, came the awakening of the intellectual and the moral sense. To the child's mind the road which crossed the bridge eastward just beyond the farm seemed to lead up to a solid vault of blue. Men passed, and disappeared beyond the hori- zon into the unknown. Ah, the triumph of knight- errantry when "brother Selden," a boy of nine, was commissioned to ride forth on horseback over the bridge, along the road, till, a speck in the far distance, he reached and passed through that blue and solid vault. And when the lost brother returned, trotting gaily homeward, with never a word to explain how he "broke his way alone through a solid blue sky," the joy and wonderment were not less, in proportion, than when Columbus returned to the cheering crowds of Spain from beyond the edge of the world. This childhood's Eden had also its fall of man. The culprit, by his own account, was "somewhere hesitat- ing between infancy and first school-going," in short, EARLY YEARS 11 "at that rare point where apples are perfect." Theo- dore was given two, "one for the teacher and one might be eaten by myself. On my return from school I was asked if I had given one to the teacher. I answered that I had. But I had eaten one, and I had throW7i the other over the fence/' Yet with all the blackness of the offense, and all the vividness of the memory, the culprit, reckless of conventional ethics, persisted to his life's end in a refusal to admit the sin- fulness of his sin. "The reason I told this lie was that I wanted to please my mother, whom I truly loved. ... I did not feel the sin because I did not under- stand it ; that is, it was not to me a sin." It was not by an awakening of the sense of guilt that truthfulness came to be second nature to the lad. The doctrines of original sin and moral reprobation had barred Eben- ezer Munger from the ministr}^ but his own home re- mained free from their gloomy shadows. The morbid features of emotional excitement which it was the tendency of these doctrines to promote in the age succeeding upon the Great Awakening of Edwards' day, he openly resisted. When the community where he lived was swept again and again, like so many of that period and region, by waves of religious excite- ment usually succeeded by demoralized reaction, it was "the merchant (a congenial and cultured friend) 12 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER and the doctor," who were the notorious dampeners of the enthusiasm. And yet none was more actively and persistently engaged than this same doctor in labor for the steady promotion of the moral and reli- gious welfare of the cormnunity. "As for Eve and wicked children and natural wickedness and sin as a crime of nature," writes Dr. Hunger in his latest years, "I was brought up in the midst of it, but never did I hear or imbibe from my parents a teaching nor a suggestion on the subject." In the sunny atmos- phere of a household where the father's voice meant always "kindness, good will and dignity," and the mother's leading traits were "love of the home" and a cheerfulness amounting to gayety, truthfulness became a simple growth of nature. To him it was not a mark of goodness, or virtue, or education; he could not even remember if he was ever taught it. It came as the unconscious heritage of a childhood where the first tendrils of human association had met, not bruises and rebuffs, but only a gentle and helpful support. One other impression of those earliest years is recorded. Only that of "a delightful afternoon, when two doctors and their wives and children met and had a heavenly time." With it blends the remem- brance of a similar occasion of somewhat later years EARLY YEARS 13 and justifies the adjective. "They closed the after- noon before the sun had set with reading from the Bible by my father and prayer from Deacon ." In such a moral and religious atmosphere the nature of the child developed, freely and normally, in singular immunity from the morbid influences affecting all too widely the religious thought and life of the period. Bushnell's great revolt against them was still to come, but in his own childhood experience Bushnell's later champion and biographer was learn- ing alreadj" the values "Christian Nurture" had to offer over against the conventionalized and artificial revivalism of the age. In 1836, Dr. Ebenezer Munger removed his family from Bainbridge to the town of Homer in the pictur- esque valley of the Tioughnioga River. The settle- ment had been made in 1791 by Connecticut pioneers, the first of whom were Amos Todd and Joseph Beebe of New Haven, Mrs. Beebe, the only woman of the party, being the sister of Todd. Forty-five years had developed the primitive lodge in the forest by many accessions, principally from Massachusetts^ and Connecticut. These had brought with them the typical institutions of New England, the schoolhouse 6 Brimfield, Mass., was the mother town of a majority of the early settlers. 14 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER and the Congregational Church. It was mainly for the sake of the former that the physician-scholar- farmer of Bainbridge selected Homer as the place in which to bring up his growing family. He at first took up his residence in the town itself. Six-year-old Theodore well remembered that jour- ney, made by wagon over rough roads, leading domes- tic animals, and accompanied by all their modest goods. He remembered the Homer village "green" with its two churches and its academy as the little party first saw it, and on more than one occasion com- pared the impression of architectural grandeur then made upon his mind with that experienced when first brought face to face with the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey — much to the disadvantage of the latter. After a few years of practice in the town itself, Dr. Munger bought a farm three miles outside, up tlie valley of the Tioughnioga River. It was a beautiful stretch of land, reaching back onto wooded hills, and down to the brink of the little stream, and here the boy Theodore learned to love nature and the simple life with a deep and enduring love. Like his father, he was always a reader, but he early became also a thinker. The later habit of meditation was in his own mind connected with the quiet hours of this EARLY YEARS 15 period of his boyhood, when he would wander away- alone, up on the hill-slope, and, lying in the warm sun- shine, would "lose himself in the thought of God." The home surroundings on the farm in the Tiough- nioga valley were of the plainest and simplest ; for all the years of Ebenezer Munger's life were years of toil to earn subsistence for a dependent family. They had none of the humiliation, however, that attends the limitation of slender means in these more modern times of plutocratic social distinctions. They were Hmitations common to all the social group. Farm occupations and the outdoor life were the normal condition, and their tasks were congenial to the nature-loving boy. His whole soul was open to the beautiful. He loved his simple home, and in later life felt a pathetic longing to return to it again and again. The father practiced medicine and worked his farm, but not without the wider interest we should anticipate from one of his ideals and training. He was also a self-constituted missionary, driving for miles around and lending books and papers to the people on distant farms. Farm duties and simple household tasks fell nat- urally to the lot of the boys, but there was no irksome toil. The memory in after years of climbing in sum- mer the high hill-slope before sunrise to drive the 16 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER cows down to the milking, had only associations with the wholesome gladness of life. Warming his small, bare feet in the grass where some cow had lain, the boy would stand and drink in all the beauty of cloud- drift below in the valley and the sky brightening in the east. School associations, too, were of the wholesome type. In choosing Homer as a good place for the education of his sons, the college-bred doctor had made no mistake. Its people were a homogeneous community, alike in character and condition, strongly marked with the traits of the "land of steady habits" from which they had come. They were New Eng- landers from and of New England, and centred the interests of their life around church and school, as their village itself clustered around "meeting-house" and "academy" on the central "green." It was a saying in the "Military Tract" — itself largely peo- pled by the same stock — "If you wish to settle among religionists, go to Homer." In the days when, under the one-sided "Plan of Union," hundreds of Congre- gational churches in this region and to the westward were absorbed into the Presbyterian organization, Homer stood among the few that refused to give up New England independency, even under threat of EARLY YEARS 17 being cut off from fellowship if within a given time they did not "perfect their relation to Presbjrtery." Until October, 1833, the church had been under the charge of Rev. John Keep, of whom Dr. Munger himself testified in 1901 at the centennial anniversary of the church: I do not hesitate to pronounce him not only the greatest of your pastors, but the most effective citizen the town has known ; a man who left here an impress deeper, and in more ways, than anyone who has dwelt long among you. He is not to be estimated by his native qualities of energy, zeal and fidelity, but by his ability to measure the questions that were coming to the front in both church and state, his clear insight into their meaning and their drift, and his cour- age and wisdom in maintaining them alone and under an opposition which led to ostracism.' The "questions of church and state" that agitated the little conmiunity of Homer jointly with many larger ones in Theodore's boyhood days were respec- tively the theological question of the freedom of the 7 "Centennial Manual of Congregational Church," Homer, N. Y., 1901, p. 12ff. Subsequently in The Congregationalist for September 22, 1906, Dr. Munger published a review of the life of Rev. John Keep under the title, "An Old-time Hero." In this it is shown how "Father Keep," as president of the original board of trustees of Oberlin College, and chief financial agent, became through his heroic sacrifice and tireless energy the savior of the institution. 18 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER will, with its practical corollaries of activity or quiet- ism in accordance with Arminian or Cah-inistic lean- ings respectively; and the — if possible — still more acrimonious antislavery agitation. On both "Father Keep," as he came to be called, had displayed the intense energy and conviction of the man of action. We may quote again from Dr. Munger's characteri- zation : He was a thorough-going radical, a stout fighter, a close reasoner, of boundless enthusiasm and tireless industry. But especially he was a humanitarian, of a type that had just appeared, yet had won no recognition save at Oberlin, and here and there at the East where it was undergoing persecu- tion. As I look back upon him, I think he was at least half a century ahead of his da3^ His piety was not the piety of the time and the region. The saint of that day was one who prayed much, and meditated and fed his soul on the divine sovereignty, and waited for the Holy Spirit to come and more fully bless him. May the type never die out; stiU there is a higher type that needs also the other. Father Keep had caught sight of this new type — let me call it the humanitarian type — the type of action rather than of meditation — and set it at work almost before its time.* The characterization of Father Keep is based in part upon a sermon which had been criticised for 8 "Centennial Manual of Congregational Church," Homer, N. Y., 1901. EARLY YEARS 19 bringing young people into the church at an earlier age than had been usual. Father Keep contended in language that was to find echo fourteen years later® from New England's hills, that "the church is a mother" ; that "the design of the church is to form a nursery for spiritual children." Father Keep's humanitarian impress on the politi- cal thought of Homer may be judged by the follow- ing reminiscence of the boy Theodore of an occur- rence during the ministry of Rev. Dennis Piatt, Father Keep's successor. Simeon S. Bradford, who may or may not have been descended from the May- flower Governor, had been Father Keep's sole con- vert to his antislavery views: Notices of antislavery meetings were not given in church during Mr. Piatt's ministry; had he given such notices his pulpit would soon have been vacant. At the close of a service on a Sunday morning, after the benediction had been pronounced, Simeon Bradford rose in his pew and in a clear ringing voice — I can hear it yet, though it was more than sixty years ago — gave notice that "An antislavery meeting will be held in the schoolhouse near Factory Hill on Monday evening at early candle-light; all are invited to attend." Mr. Piatt reddened in the face but wisely said nothing. The 9 The sermon is dated in 1833, fourteen years before Bushnell's famous book on "Christian Nurture." 20 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER people looked at one another in mild surprise; some faintly smiled, but all respected Simeon Bradford/" In the evening time of his own life we find our New England minister recalling not only the quaint phrase "at early candle-light," but that institution that has meant so much to the religious life of our rural communities, the evening meeting in the school- houses distant from the villages. How simple it is! A square building put together as if spirited out of the near-by forest from which its timbers are hewn, and yet with a certain solidity that implies dignity and purpose. Within are pine benches, with some variation of height for older and younger; a desk slightly elevated where the teacher presides, and a box stove at the centre to subdue the storms of winter. This, and nothing more, but here are found two chief things that vast numbers of the American people have learned — to think and to pray. The vaguely named hour has come. Each householder brings a candle, and two are placed on the desk that serves as a pulpit. Ten or twenty more stand on the line of benches until the room is dehvered out of darkness, yet hardly more. But this was as it should be. The Puritan was sometimes forced out of his opinions by chance of circumstance. He built his meetinghouse on a hill, without a tree to over- shadow it, its windows broad open to the sun and uncur- 10 "Centennial Manual of Congregational Churdi," Homer, N. Y., 1901. EARLY YEARS 21 tained; for he would let no ray of light fail to shine on his life or his faith. But when he worshiped God at night, by dint of necessity he bowed in light as dim as that in monastic aisles, without realizing how near he came to what his fathers had reprobated/^ Scenes such as these need poets' thought and paint- ers' art to do justice to their deeper beauty and sig- nificance. But we must pass to other phases of the lad's life, and agencies which more directly developed his capacity and character. Homer's schools were as typical as its church. We are fortunate in having a description, written by a distinguished schoolmate, of the particular district school attended by himself and the Munger boys. The writer is the portrait painter and author, Francis Bicknell Carpenter, to whom we owe, among other paintings of national interest, the well-known picture of the Signing of the Emancipation Proclamation now hanging in the Capitol at Washington. Mr. Carpenter's article on "The Old Schoolhouse" was written at the time of its demolition. It has interest to Americans of the older generation as recalling a typical institution. Multitudes of these remember with gratitude the "district school," an evidence of 11 From an article entitled "Early Candle-light" in The Congregation- alist of November 25, 1905. 22 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER the Puritan's determination to hold fast the wealth of intellectual refinement even in the rude environ- ment of the frontier. The description possesses a peculiar interest for us, as reflecting school-day mem- ories of Theodore Munger and his lifelong friend. The very list of names — thej^ are largely of Connecti- cut stock — is rich in associations, and shows clearly the character of the community. Carpenter's pen- picture is as follows : For three years, summer and winter, we trudged a mile to school, with books and dinner-basket, and back at night, in all sorts of weather, severe enough sometimes in winter to freeze ears and toes. . . . What a crowd of boys and girls used to meet within those brick walls in those days ! The Woolworths, Samuel, James, Sophia and Calvin: the Shermans, Byron, Porter, Edward and Mary, the last named the flower of the school, whose moss-rose beauty made her favor the object of con- tention among all the juvenile boys of the front "bench"; the Hungers, Selden, Theodore, Hezekiah; tlie Bristols, Mary, John and Charles; the Woodwards, Ophelia, Henri- etta and Maria; Matthew Barker's children, James, George and Amanda ; Stephen Barker's children, George Wesley and Ann ; Warren Parker and his cousin Belle Goddard ; the Hobarts, Flavilla, Duran, DcForrest; John Keep, and Duane ; Lemuel and Charles Bates ; Emma Canfield, David EARLY YEARS 2S Hannum; . . . the Griswolds, Maria and Esther; the Welches, Martha Jane, and Maria ; Austin Hitchcock, Rodney Marsh, Joseph Alden, who went with a crutch ; . . . Hartley Perry Wallace, who was drowned in the pond; WiUiam Coburn, William King, whose early death together with the drowning of Hartley Perry Wallace, cast a shadow over our young lives ; Riley and Malvina Brewer, who hved near the bridge above the schoolhouse ; the Stillman boys, liring in the Miner house, one of whom showed the writer how to make his first kite; the Fox sisters, Wilhelmina and Ehza, Charlotte Doty, Helen, Frank and DeWitt Carpenter, Catharine Lynde, Ehza, Dwight and Timothy Piatt. The best scholar of those days was Martius Lynde, who took the prize offered by Erastus Phillips for the best scholarship. The list is long, but to its author manifestly not a dry one. Nor should it be even for strangers. Keep is a name we recognize. Woolworth is one we are soon to hear again. Griswold, Bristol, Welch, Marsh, Lynde, and Hitchcock have a familiar ring in Connecticut ears, and harmonize well with that of Alden, while David Hannum, thinly disguised as Harum, has become for modern readers the typical "York-State Yankee." Before promotion came from "district school" to "academy," perhaps even before the old brick school- house days, another lifelong friendship had been 24 THEODORE THORNTON IVIUNGER formed. Its object was destined to be college-mate at Yale as well as schoolmate in Homer, and the most distinguished member of Yale's most distinguished class. Next to Frank Carpenter, the place of honor in Theodore's heart among his schoolboy friends was accorded to Andrew D. White. The sentiment of mutual devotion was only marred by the secret en\y cherished by Theodore for Andrew's red-topped boots, silently reciprocated by Andrew for Theo- dore's "camlet" cloak. The friendship was not to be continued in the Academy; for before that period of the boys' career the Whites had moved away. Nevertheless it is to no other pen than that of the famous scholar, educator, and diplomat that we owe the following description of Homer Academy, sufficiently explaining why Ebenezer Munger should have turned to Homer, as the town offering the best attainable educational advantages : To Cortland Academy students came from far and near; and it soon began sending young men into the foremost places of State and Church. At an early day, too, it began receiving young women, and sending them forth to become the best of matrons. As my family left the place when I was seven years old I was never within its walls as a student, but it acted powerfully on my education in two ways, it EARLY YEARS 25 gave my mother the best of her education, and it gave me a respect for scholarship. The library and collections, though small, suggested pursuits better than the scramble for place or pelf; the public exercises two or three times a year led my thoughts, no matter how vaguely, into higher regions, and I shall never forget the awe which came over me, when, as a child, I saw Principal Woolworth, with his best students around him on the green, making astronomical observations through a small telescope/^ Dr. Hunger's own testimony to the Academy as a whole in its social influence, and in particular to that of Dr. Woolworth, is not less emphatic. As to the latter. Dr. Munger writes in the sketch of his life prepared in 1893 for the history of his class at Yale: I remember with especial gratitude my teachers. Principal S[amuel] B. Woolworth, LL.D., and Rev. Dr. Henry A. Nelson, and my pastor, Rev. Thomas K. Fessenden — all able and high-minded men. As regards the institution we may be permitted to quote again from a source already repeatedly- employed : 12 "Autobiography of Andrew D. White," 1905, Vol. I, p. 6. In the above extract President White correctly refers to the institution as "Cortland" Academy. The explanation is given by Dr. Munger on p. 16 of the "Centennial Manual" above quoted. "It was named for the county and so was caUed Cortland Academy; but it was built in and by Homer. It should be said, however, that Homer embraced (until 1829) what is now Cortland." 26 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER The unbroken tradition of New England to this day is that the church and the school go together. First a college, in order that the church might have a learned as well as godly ministry. Homer could not have a college, but it would come as near it as possible, and so — twenty yea.Ts after the church was organized — secured a charter for an Academy. It was New England over again, and in its highest form. The Church and the Academy played into each other ; and together they held the people to what was best in each. It was undenominational, and the Baptist and Episcopal churches were represented on the board of trustees and in the teaching faculty. It thus bred a catholic spirit, and, as I remember the town, it was remarkably free from the sectarian temper, notwithstanding that doctrinal and ecclesiastical distinctions were rigorously held. More than all, it diffused a high and noble spirit throughout the com- munity. The teachers gave the tone to society. In a very real sense and degree learning was honored, and was counted as essential to respectability. Every parent and every bright boy and girl felt the inspiration of the Academy. As I recur to my childhood I remember two chief topics of con- versation in the household — the Church and the Academy ; and I cannot recall which was named oftener. Multitudes of young men began their education here who are now fill- ing high positions of honor and usefulness in church and state. In 1859 its students had numbered more than 8,000. EARLY YEARS 27 The hope of the nation and the world, and the hope of every man, hes in education and reHgion. Never were they more truly blended than in tliis Academy/^ Of those whose lives bear witness to the influence of Cortland Academy, we will mention two, for the reason that although they came to Homer too late to he actual schoolmates of Munger there, each followed him to Yale and was closely related to him in later years. From the neighboring Pennsylvania town of Mon- trose there came to Cortland Academy, in September 1846, Henry Harris Jessup, then but fourteen years of age. After a single year of preparation he entered Yale as a classmate of Munger in the class of '51, to become one of its most beloved and honored members. During the years 1852-1855 he was a brilliant stu- dent at Union Seminary, N. Y., whence he sailed after graduation to become one of the heroes of mis- sionary service in Syria. Here he remained till his death in 1910. Along the same path but shortly after came another of Munger's lifelong friends, one whom Yale still delights to honor, joining the name with his own, though their college course was not contemporary. 13 "Homer Church Centennial Manual," 1901, p. 17. 28 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER The friendship dates from an acquaintance formed while Hunger was spending his vacation on the farm in Homer. Thither from the same little town of Montrose, Pa., had come, after Henry Jessup, and bent on the same errand of preparation for college, Elisha Mulford (Yale B.A. 1855, LL.D. 1872), author of "The Nation," 1871, and "The Repubhc of God," 1881. The school days in Homer should interest us for that wherein they were tj^pical, not for that wherein thej^ were exceptional. Hudson, Ohio, where they were continued, belonged to the section of country known as the Western Reserve, a region where the old-time New England ideas and institutions obtained a new lease of life. Homer, as we have seen, had the same characteristics. Those who know the educa- tional life of old New England will need no further data to reproduce them in imagination. Theodore Munger's preparation for college — for Principal Woolworth had pronounced that the boy must have a college education and become a minister — was begun in the Academy, but after 1846 was continued in the preparatory department of Western Reserve College, then located at Hudson, Ohio. The oppor- tunity for entering this new field of preparation came through the marriage of his sister Cynthia, in 1844!, to EARLY YEARS 29 George R. Smith, a Homer boy, and their removal to Hudson. A year and a half was spent under the Smiths' hospitable roof, where Theodore not only availed himself of the advantages of the college, but remained under the constant influence of a high- minded and Christian household. A testimony to the lad's taste for good literature and conscientious employment of his leisure time remains in a "List of books," with careful entries in boyish hand of titles of the volumes read in succes- sive years from January 1, 1844, to some date not specified in 1848. The list includes sixty-eight volumes in 1844, forty-six in 1845 and a somewhat smaller number in the succeeding years, but compris- ing Scott, Dumas, Pope, Milton, Dryden, Byron, Longfellow, Irving, Cooper, Harriet Martineau, Thiers, as well as lighter works of travel, history, poetry and fiction. Manifestly the seventeen-year- old boy who entered Yale in 1847, had more than an average preparation. But college life demands a chapter to itself. CHAPTER II COLLEGE DAYS 1847-1851 If the journey from Bainbridge to Homer seemed to mark an epoch in the child Theodore's life, and the impression of the village "green," site of church and schoolhouse, remained in after years as the ideal of architectural grandeur, we can imagine what the effect must have been on the young lad's mind who, after returning to Homer from his eighteen months' stay in Hudson, set out almost at once on the long journey to New Haven. The memory of the night ride by stagecoach, seated beside the driver, from Homer to the Hudson River, remained long and deeply impressed. The journey was continued by boat down the Hudson to New York City — a won- drous sight to the country lad — and thence again by boat to New Haven. Yale College in 1847 had just begun a new period in its history. Theodore Dwight Woolsey had suc- ceeded Jeremiah Day in the presidency on the day after the latter's resignation was presented, in Octo- COLLEGE DAYS 31 ber, 1846. The new administration covered a period of twenty-five years, exceeding all the previous his- tory of the college in many forms of progress. In distinction from Harvard, its older but at that time more provincial sister, Yale had already acquired the reputation of an institution of national scope and influence. Under Woolsey it not only continued to draw students from a much wider field than its rival, but greatly increased its lead over Harvard in num- ber of students in attendance. The South in particu- lar sent the largest quota of her sons to Yale. This national growth of influence was fully justifled by the type of men who formed the college faculty. The year which saw the beginning of Hunger's stu- dent life was marked by the accession to the teaching force of one who many years later was to exert an influence of decisive importance on his career. Rev. Noah Porter, later Woolsey's successor in the presi- dency, was installed in 1847 in the new professorship of Moral Philosophy and Metaphysics. In the fol- lowing year Mr. James Hadley, father of President Arthur T. Hadley, was promoted to the charge of the Greek department, entering thus upon one of the most distinguished careers among American classi- cists. Thomas A. Thacher, who had been made Assistant Professor of Latin in 1842, was just begin- 32 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER ning to develop in 1847 the extraordinary gifts which made him during a period of forty-seven years one of the most effective and beloved of the great teachers of Yale. In 1850 a professorship in Geology was established, just as young Hunger was ready to receive its instruction at the feet of James D. Dana — imposing name! And yet perhaps for "Thede" Hunger, and that classmate of his and brother of the new-made professor, William B. Dana, afterwards so eminent as founder and editor of The Commercial and Financial Review, it was not quite so impressive as to us. Among the older professors, those who next to Woolsey himself gave distinction to the college and perpetuated high traditions of science and scholarship were Benjamin Silliman, who had been appointed Professor of Chemistry in 1802 at the age of twenty- three, and James L. Kingsley, appointed Professor of Languages in 1805 at the age of twenty-seven. Silliman was not only eminent as a scientist but was also public orator of the college, continuing in active service until 1853. Kingsley had taught onl}^ Latin since the appointment of Woolsey in 1831 to the chair of Greek; but he remained the type and model of high-minded scholarship until his retirement in 1851, quickly followed by his death in 1852. COLLEGE DAYS 33 This array, as we now look back upon it, is rightly esteemed a brilliant one. It was at all events a body of men who could point to the real achievement of having made Yale the leading institution of learning on the continent, and it seems at first almost unac- countable that Munger could write to his classmates in 1893: We are all too grateful for what the dear old College did for us, to find fault with what she did not do. In the light of the present, the methods of that day seem crude and poor ■enough. They were specially unsuccessful in my case, but I contrived nevertheless to absorb a good deal of general knowledge from the college as a whole, and made up for what the tutors did not teach me by rather wide reading in litera- ture, especially in Shakespeare, which I knew better at graduation than I do now.^ The inference we might naturally draw from this of dissatisfaction on Plunger's part with the achieve- ments of his student days would be partly justified; for his record of scholarship was not high, and men are wont in later years to reproach themselves with the "might have beens." But the dissatisfaction here expressed is clearly directed towards the institution and its then rigid curriculum, largely devoted as it was to classic languages and mathematics, while 1 "Yale Class of 1851," p. 224. 34 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER Hunger's tastes ran unmistakably to English litera- ture. It voices not so much dissatisfaction with the past as the satisfaction of Hunger's later years in the changes so greatly needed, some of which he himself had a part in bringing to pass. Hethods were indeed improved as increasing en- dowments at last enabled the institution to struggle free from the depressing handicap of constant finan- cial straits. Poverty had compelled it to use its finest characters and intellects in mere routine work, and in the business of administration and discipline. Un- fortunately, narrowness of means combined with nar- rowness of vision tended to prevent the development that should have come to growing and impressionable minds through contact Avith minds and characters of the type we have described. Hany felt the stimulus and responded to it; but there were others naturally gifted and ardent as Hunger was, but introspective in natural disposition, self-dependent and in more or less conscious rebellion against the Procrustean bed of liberal education as then understood. For these the main purpose of collegiate life was largely unful- filled. Hunger remained at Yale for the whole seven years of his collegiate training, academic and profes- sional. His environment as respects social position and comfort cannot have been inferior to that of any COLLEGE DAYS 35 member of his class, and must have been far superior to most; for during the greater part of this seven years he was an inmate of one of the homes most dis- tinguished for wealth and refinement in the city. His mother's brother, David Selden, had recently re- turned from England the possessor of an ample for- tune and was occupying one of the best residences in New Haven, directly fronting the College buildings from the other side of the Green. Mrs. David Sel- den, aunt of Yale's well-beloved professor, Eugene L. Richards, was a woman of exceptional breadth and depth of mind, and strong religious nature, the mother of a large group of growing children. She was a woman of unusual culture, enlarged by long residence in England. By birth, by nurture, and by the discipline of life, she was also a woman of great dignity and beauty of character. His "Aunt Ger- trude" not only received her nephew as a member of the family, but took a deep and sympathetic interest in his studies; encouraging an intelligent discussion of questions both of literary and public interest. She doubtless contributed greatly also to his savoir faire in the ways of aristocratic society, of which Homer had little experience. In short, nothing can have been lacking to the young student that the surround- ings of a home of culture could supply. 36 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER But the very wealth of home advantages often proves an obstacle to a student's appreciation of class- room drill. And it must be confessed that the narrow curriculum of the college made very large demands upon the submissive docility of the student. There was small effort to call out his responsive interest in the subject, little concern for modern science, history, or literature, great dependence on the value of mental discipline in the technical routine of grammar, lexicon, and text-book. Munger's mind was preeminently disposed to literature. Any opportunity to come into really sympathetic relations with the instructors would have been welcomed by him. Indeed, his younger college-mate, Andrew D. White, recalls as a noteworthy incident of his own college course, that: Almost the first of my many walks with him took us to the house of President Woolsey, to whom he introduced me. It was soon clear to my mind that there was something more in the relation between the President and my friend than was then usual between Yale professors and students generally: thanks to this fact I had quite a lengthy, and, to me, a very interesting talk with Dr. Woolsey, such as I after- ward found not more than two or three other members of my class ever had. It was clear to me that the presence of Hunger, and the influence of his quiet, thoughtful way in suggesting topics of conversation was the cause of tliis. COLLEGE DAYS 37 Hunger's literary interest and familiarity with the best writers were evidenced by his securing one of the coveted Sophomore composition prizes. His gifts in public debate brought him to the fore in the contests between the two college debating societies, "Lino- nia" and "Brothers." But his very success in these directions made the curriculum drill the more irk- some. Whatever else the college furnished — and to many it was giving all they aspired to in the way of mental disciphne, to all it was giving the best America could then supply — it failed to kindle in Hunger's mind the flame of enthusiasm. It did not inspire the hope of service to the world in the advance- ment of learning or culture. The j^ear after gradua- tion was a year of relief from wearisome routine. When, after careful consideration of the relative attractions of rival institutions, he returned in 1852 to enter the Divinity School, the course in theology also "soon ceased to have much meaning" for him, though he "responded to Dr. Taylor's spirit of independence and courage as a thinker to such a degree as to count him the greatest" of his teachers. It was not till the fall of 1855, during a period of three months of graduate study at Andover, that his "whole nature, intellectual and moral, awoke," and he "took an earnest hold on life." This, however, was due rather 38 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER to his own maturer mental development and the prac- tical responsibilities of a pastor and preacher he had begun to assume than to differences in the curricula or faculties of the two institutions. The spiritual and religious influences at Yale in 1847-1851 were less active than at several periods both before and after. Still they were by no means defi- cient ; neither was Hunger's a nature to be unrespon- sive to a spiritual atmosphere. He became a member of the college church during his Freshman year, along with others of his class, by public profession of his faith. But this step was not taken as the effect of influences experienced in New Haven. It was the natural outgrowth of former years. Neither the persuasive eloquence of Dr. Fitch in the college pul- pit nor even the influence of Fitch's classmate and colleague, Rev. Chauncey A. Goodrich, seems to have had any bearing upon it. As professor of Rhetoric and English, Goodrich had been for years one of the strongest factors in the religious life of the college. He continued for a long period after his transfer to the Divinity School, in 1839, to be the religious friend and unofficial pastor of many of the undergraduate students. But Hunger's own later testimony is explicit that he joined the college church "on the COLLEGE DAYS 39 strength of a Christian education, and the general fitness of the aet."^ The period 1847-1851 coincides with that of reac- tion from the great revivals of 1835-1837 and 1841. In the country at large, interest in religion experi- enced a marked decline between the college revival in 1841-1842, led by Rev. E. N. Kirk of Boston and Prof. N. W. Taylor of the Divinity School, and the great national revival of 1857-1858. College participation in the antecedent reaction from earlier revival sentiment had fortunately been small. "Quiet, deep, permanent" are the adjectives which a graduate of the class of 1856 employs to characterize its religious life during the fifties.^ A member of the class of 1855 contributes a description of religious life at Yale during the period while Munger was still a student in the Divinity School. From it we take the following in abstract: The four years from 1851 to 1855 cover my college life. Their religious character is still vivid in my memory ; indeed, I may say that no other feature of that life stands out so vividly or so impressively as the religious. . . . There was the universally beloved President Theodore D. Woolsey. His prayers at morning worship in the Chapel were character- 2 "Yale Class of 1851," 1893, p. 224, 3 Wright, "Two Centuries of Christian Activity at Yale," 1901, p. 91. 40 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER ized by such simplicity, childlikeness, soulfulness and direct- ness of communion with God as to make them models of beauty and impressiveness. His preacliing bore the same marks as his prayers. He sought to make Christian char- acter central and all-controlling among scholarly attain- ments, the one thing to be supremely desired, and what made his words all the more impressive was that he liimself was a bright illustration of their truth. It was customary to hold a general midweek religious meeting in the lecture room of the Athenaeum. This was known as the President's meeting, and was always largely attended. In 1852 Dr. Fitch retired and [in 1854.] Rev. George P. Fisher took his place. The students greatly enjoyed the ministrations of Dr. Fisher. Quiet in manner, genial, scholarly, fresh from foreign study, his thought cast in a modern mould, he gave a new impulse to the religious life of the college. Not that there was any break with the past ; it was simply a step higher, where there was a broader outlook. The power of the college pulpit was greatly reinforced by occasional preachers, such men from New Haven as the elder Bacon, Dutton, Cleveland, Strong and Phelps, and from abroad J. L. Thompson of New York, Storrs of Brooklyn, Hawes and the incomparable Bushnell, not to speak of others, men so alike in power, yet so variant in its exhibition.* * Letter of Frederick Alvord reproduced by Wright, ibid. COLLEGE DAYS 41 Dr. Alvord's is a sincere and glowing tribute; yet equally unimpeachable testimony makes it evident that the appeal of these particular forms of religious influence was limited, like that of the stereotyped curriculum, to a special type of character. Students who fell more easily into the conventional mould could profit by it. It was meant to satisfy their spirit- ual needs and aspirations. It had sufficed for their fathers — yes, won their enthusiastic praise. How could it fail to attract any genuinely spiritual life? Yet Munger was not attracted. A clerical classmate writes: "He was never, I believe, in any of our class or college religious meetings, certainly not in the weekly evening class meeting of Tuesday, nor in the Friday evening meeting addressed by President Woolsey, and I do not recall his being with us in the college service of Sunday." Religion for these two classmates meant an almost completely different thing. To the one it meant the experiences of the emotional past reproduced in the present. To the other it refused to be thus limited. It was one of the inborn traits of this spiritual-minded youth to seek fellowship with God. He recalled it as a bent of his youth "to attend prayer-meetings when- ever possible — without religious thought or feeling, but only a strong instinct or native love of religion." 42 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER It seems strange that he should not be one of those who made up the "large" and "crowded" attendance on the Sunday evening meetings conducted by Pro- fessor Goodrich and the "President's" midweek meet- ings in the Athenaeum. Yet somehow there was a lack of sympathy. It was not that Munger's religion was less earnest than his classmates', still less that he lost from view for one moment the "high calling" to the Christian ministry which had brought him to Yale. Neither were his college da5^s a time of storm and stress in the struggle against doubt or temptation. Simply the modes of religious expression which to many were adequate, as they had been to generations past, to him were no longer adequate. He held aloof as sons of the bridechamber hold aloof from fasting. It is good for those whose mood it expresses, but new wine must have new bottles. Conversion was the ever-recurrent theme in the religious meetings of Munger's college days, modeled as they still were on those of the great revivals, though pruned of excesses. The type had become conventionalized, like the cur- riculum; and for a spirit craving reality, already taking its first steps toward the larger world of thought and life, this atmosphere was uncongenial. It was far from being a sterile period in either the COLLEGE DAYS 43 intellectual or religious development of the youth, but his growth was not along the lines mapped out. At this period in the history of the college the whole body of undergraduates was divided between two debating societies, "Linonia" and "Brothers." Early in his college life Munger became a member of the former. There remain ten "disputes," carefully written out, prepared for the first and second terms of his Junior year, as witness to the prominence of public debate in student interest, an interest which the present generation finds it hard to reawaken. The subjects are partly literary and academic, partly political, dealing with the practical issues of the time. On "Slavery in the District of Columbia" and "The Fugitive Slave Bill" the young abolitionist from Western Reserve must have spoken con amove; for he, his classmate Joseph Sheldon, and Andrew D. White of '53 were marked representatives of antislavery views. Still, in the document before us, the attitude taken by Munger on the Fugitive Slave Bill, whether because of assignment to this side in the debate, or from personal choice, is of unexcep- tionable moderation.^ He declines to re-debate the 5 The year of the "dispute" is that of the famous speech of Daniel Webster which alienated from him all but the proslavery element of his state. The date of the speech was March 7. In aU probability the students' debate was later. Munger was a great admirer of Webster. 44 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER question of the expediency of passing the bill (dis- cussed on an earlier occasion when Munger had not spoken), though he makes no concealment of his hatred and contempt for the motives which prompted it. Reenactment of the law of 1793 for the protection of the owners of slave property the young orator declares to be a mere pretext. The real object of the bill is "so base as to stamp it with shame." If only a reenactment, the bill was unnecessary. If more than this, it was an aggressive move for the extension of slavery. Since, however, it has been enacted, he "would say most emphatically. Enforce it." In the debate on "The Congress of Nations," i.e., the proposed international conference for the settle- ment of disputes between nations without recourse to war, we are fain to believe that the arguments of the disputant, aiming to show that the purposes of such a congress would be "neither desirable nor prac- ticable," did not represent the real convictions of the speaker. War, it is urged, is a great evil ; but it can- not be abolished without entailing greater. First, because "it seems to be ordained for special purposes by a higher Power." We might be left in doubt whether this "higher Power" were God or Satan, but the succeeding clause removes all possible ambiguity. It would be impious — so our youthful disputant COLLEGE DAYS 45 maintains — to attempt to abolish "one of the great instrumentalities in the hand of God." To be spe- cific, the orator will "regard this as an undeniable and established fact, that war has ever been the great agent and promoter of civilization." Instance: Where the missionary has gone with the Bible, the soldier prepared the way before him with the sword ( !) — but "the good results of war are too evi- dent to be dwelt upon." War is almost absolutely necessary "to carry off the surplus population of the globe." The amusement with which we now read the argu- ments for war which a bare half-century ago were soberly advanced before audiences by no means the least intelligent, is no small encouragement for the advocate of international peace. Those who were privileged to know the Munger of later years will realize that it was not the disposition of the man, but the prepossessions of the times which gave such reasoning a temporary plausibility in his eyes. The one serious publication of undergraduate Yale was then, as now. The Yale Literary Magazine. The sixth issue of Vol. XVI, which appeared in April, 1851, contains a review by Munger of the writings of De Quincey. These had been published in four volimies by Ticknor, Reed & Fields, in 46 THEODORE THORNTON IMUNGER 1850. So far as now appears, this essay marked the beginning of the young author's literary career, and its characteristics are such as might have been antici- pated. There is confirmation in the very choice of subject of the statement, in the Class History, "I made up for what the tutors did not teach me by rather wide reading in literature." As a literary critic, the boy who had just attained the milestone of manhood displays already a full maturitj^ of appre- ciation, and is able to express his judgment with vigor of style and nicety of expression. De Quincey is compared to Poe for his power of analysis : They both exhibit the same delicate perception of analo- gies, the same clear insight into character and the same power of weighing probabilities. This gift, united with his learning, especially qualified him to examine doubtful pas- sages in History and Literature, the right understanding of which depends more upon a nice appreciation of the cir- cumstances and characters concerned than on the quantity of facts. The criticism of De Quincey 's style shows equally mature discrimination and is itself expressed with no small degree of skill and power: The great characteristic of his style is power. Under- standing thoroughly his subject, conscious that he is right, COLLEGE DAYS 47 feeling its merits with all the earnestness of his great nature, and gifted with an almost perfect command of language, he carries all before him, leaving not a standing thing within the sweep of his mighty pen. The moment he touches his theme you are conscious of being under the influence of a master power, and are contented to follow in his mighty wake, without attempting to struggle against its surges. In argument he not only casts his opponent to the earth, but buries him beneath his potent rhetoric, so that there shall be no hope of his resurrection. It cannot be said that his style is natural or flowing. It is artificial — extremely so, but it is architecture of a stupendous order. It possesses little symmetrical elegance, but rises in proportions so grand and magnificent that you are awed into wonder, rather than persuaded into admiration, and although you may observe graceful arches and symmetrical turrets, still you feel only the presence of the stupendous towers that overshadow you. A classmate, Rev. A. H. Carrier, writing in May, 1911, of Munger's distaste for the classroom drill, "mainly in the hands of young tutors," explains it as only the obverse of his attraction for "literature of the best kind that he could find on the library shelves." This testimony is borne out by the docu- ments. Doubtless the classroom drill was also intended to lead to a taste for the humanities con- joined with philological method and logical power. 48 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER But the besetting sin of pedagogy in its ceaseless war with superficiality is exhaustion of the motive power. The inspiring vision of the goal may be lost in routine. When such danger threatens, shortcuts are better than the beaten track. In Hunger's case, at least, mental vitality was saved by the appeal to life. From the mere letter he turned to books as exponents of life, and came into contact with the spirit of the great English men of letters, if not with those of classic times. There was a further appeal to life in the use made by the warm-hearted boy of those "uncove- nanted mercies" of the college course, its fellowships and friendships, the touch of ardent soul with soul, the loyalties, the hero-worships of friendly rivals who have taken one another's measure and made a "cove- nant of blood" like that of David and Jonathan. In place of the modern photograph album with its mechanical reproduction of mere face and feature, the older classes at Yale exchanged autograph albums in which it was the custom for each member of the class to write for every other, sometimes mak- ing a poetical selection, sometimes characterizing a friend or depicting the pleasures of the relationship in a way to exhibit, as nothing else could do, the esti- mate formed by the class itself of its various mem- COLLEGE DAYS 49 bers. Many of the notes written by Hunger's class- mates in his album give evidence of the exceptional talent which his fellow- students believed they dis- cerned in him. One classmate finds occasion for exhortation to greater industry: "If you only had a little more heroic industry I know few men that I would match with you. A little patient industry coupled with a little heroism would carry you to the immor- tal gods. Aim high and there is no danger but you will hit the mark." More often the expressions simply combine affec- tion and esteem,® though in quite a number of cases the writers express regret at having failed to attain an intimate relationship. Some of the warmest expressions of regard are from members of the Greek letter fraternity * Y into which Munger was initi- ated in his Junior year. We may take the following as the pen-portrait of a friend and admirer. It is from the valedictorian and DeForest prize speaker of the class below Munger's; one whose brilliant war record and subsequent career as lawyer, educator, 6 Because of the eminence of the writer (General John Willcocks Noble, Secretary of the Interior under President Harrison and founder of the modern policy of forest conservation) we may mention his appre- ciation of his classmate's "indulgent disposition, sound understanding, and good taste." 50 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER and author amply fulfilled the promise of his college days: Feiend Mungee: I know of no individual in College that has more friends and fewer enemies than you. It is hard for merit and talent to be conspicuous without exciting malignant hatred and torturing slander, and I am glad that your reputation, though honorable and brilliant, is yet almost unscathed by malice. Your modest, unobtrusive deportment — the spon- taneous expression of a warm heart and a discerning intel- lect — has gained the confidence and esteem of others, and has made me ever Your sincere friend. Class of '52. HoMEE B. Speague. To this we may subjoin expressions of friendship from three classmates who were soon brought into new connection with Munger and remained through- out long hves of useful service in close bonds of mutually helpful sympathy. Jenkins, Jessup, and Vose continued their preparation for the ministrj^ coincidently with him. Vose alone continued without intermission; but all three of the others entered the Divinity School in 1852 and graduated in 1855. Jenkins and Munger completed their theological course together at Yale, Jessup at Union Seminary, COLLEGE DAYS 51 New York, and Vose at Andover. It is worth while to hear the God-speed of these young comrades in arms as they bid each other farewell at the close of college days. Jenkins queries whether to begin "Dear Thede" or "My very dear friend Munger," but as he warms to the recollection of "that glorious set of fellows" whom he had come to know in * Y, including ' ' Jes- sup" and "Vose," the warmer, more intimate tone prevails : We shall soon, my dear fellow, be thrown into the world. Let us act nobly, let us live wisely, that we may die peace- fully. I shall ever remember you with no common feelings, for you have ever been to me a good friend and true. May you use those talents God has given you for some good pur- pose here, and reap a rich reward both here and hereafter. "Jack," as he signs himself, was Jonathan Leavitt Jenkins, D.D., a lifelong friend, pastor for seven years (1855-1862) of the First Church in Lowell, Mass., then, for two years, of the Pearl Street Church of Hartford, Conn.; later, for ten years, pastor of the First Church of Amherst, Mass., for fifteen of that of Pittsfield, Mass., and finally of the State Street Church of Portland, Me., his birthplace, the church of which his father had been pastor. The 62 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER career of James Gardiner Vose, D.D., was also to be that of a New England pastor, so that the friendship which had been less intimate in college days had time and opportunity to ripen. He was but two days Hunger's senior, and after some years of travel and study in Europe and nine years of service as professor of English at Amherst, became pastor in 1866 for the remainder of his long and useful career of the Beneficent Congregational Church in Provi- dence, R. I. His letter is full of simple and trans- parent dignity: Dear Mungek: Our intercourse in Psi Upsilon is enough to guarantee our friendship, although elsewhere we have met but little. Your name, however, has often been in the mouths of your feUows as one of the pleasantest and best writers in our class. If I wish that your success may equal your abilities it is a good wish. I hope, however, that you desire more a useful than a brilliant career. May such be your portion! Truly yours, James Gaediner Vose. The man who can take with him from college into after life three real friends has not spent his time in vain. Hunger had more. Sprague was perhaps COLLEGE DAYS 53 right in saying no man in college had more friends and fewer enemies. Yet of all these there surely was no purer, no more knightly soul than Jessup, the Galahad of their round table. It always seemed as easy for Jessup to decline some of the highest offices in the gift of church or state as in boyhood to dedi- cate himself to the ministry, and at twenty to give himself to the service of foreign missions. So it was when home on furlough in 1857 he refused succes- sively the professorship of Old Testament Literature in Union Theological Seminary and the pastorate of one of the leading churches near New York, and when in 1883 he declined the appointment of President Arthur to the post of United States ambassador to Persia. Always the sole, and to him perfectly ade- quate, reason was that he was more needed in the mission field. Of himself he once wrote: "Offers of positions other than that of a missionary made, liter- ally, no impression on my mind." The common pre- conception of such a character is that it must needs be ascetic if not austere; its saintliness seems ever to suggest something of the feminine. But Jessup fur- nished the springs of jollity when "good fellows got together" in the class of '51. It is to him that the "pranks" are attributed that are covertly alluded to; and if the venerable and majestic figure the present 54 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER writer so well remembers but a few years ago in Syria be any witness, the boy, graduating from Yale when barely nineteen, must have had the frame of an athlete and the bearing of a soldier. It is from his letter (the only illustrated one, though we must omit — alas — the illustration and the jocose allusions) that our closing extract from the album is taken. My acquaintance with you has proved one thing to my entire satisfaction : that a college friendship is lasting. We have been friends for four long years, and I have loved you better every day. We have some glorious fellows in that class of ours, but none remains whom I esteem more than my Homer friend and classmate. It is useless for me to try to recur to our many pleasant hours ; my hours spent in your society have all been pleasant, and will ever live, set like jewels in the casket of my memory. I hope and expect that God will succeed you in all your efforts to do good in the world. It is my prayer that he may. Farewell! Yours in the bonds of ^ Y, Henry Harris Jessup. Our review of College Days would not be complete without the testimony of a still surviving friend, whose recollections of still earlier days have already been quoted, but who writes expressly of coming to Yale after a first year at Hobart College, specifically COLLEGE DAYS 55 because of Munger, and under his influence. Presi- dent Andrew D. AVliite tells of his j^ear of college life in association with Munger, then a Senior, in a letter from which we take the following extracts : As I met my Senior friend from time to time, I was espe- cially impressed by some of his qualities. His talk on topics of general interest was the more remarkable in that, though he intended to become a minister, he said very httle about religion. Another thing which surprised me was that he had apparently very few, if any, of the ordinary college ambi- tions. He associated on even terms Avith the very best men in his class, such as Henry Jessup, Evan Evans and the like, and was evidently respected by them, but he did not, I think, compete often for academic honors either in writing, speaking or general scholarship. We were brought together pleasantly in one of the Greek Letter fraternities of the Junior year but, to my great sur- prise, he was not, so far as I ever knew, a member of any one of the Senior societies. This was to be wondered at, for, though he was very quiet, he was eminently a "clubable man," an excellent writer, a suggestive talker and altogether would be called a "good fellow." I have often speculated upon the reasons why he was not a leader in his class in the same sense as were his two friends above mentioned and a half dozen others like them. One reason perhaps was that he never lived in the College buildings, but had rooms at a 56 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER considerable distance from them : and another was, perhaps, that he was especially absorbed in the literature which was then appearing. That was the time when the writings of Tennyson, the Brownings, Dickens and Thackeray were appearing in England, and those of Emerson, Lowell, Bush- nell, Parker, Holmes and others of eminence, in America. These naturally attracted him away from the classroom routine of the earlier years. After his graduation he spoke to me not infrequently of the Yale Divinity School and of the men he was hearing there. The main object of his admiration seemed to be Dr. Nathaniel Taylor, and he took me to one of the Doctor's lectures, which dwells in my memory as one of the most thoughtful and at the same time racy and humorous ofFhand discourses I have ever heard. As to our points of view, I was at first separated from him by a two-fold barrier, one element in it being the atmos- phere of the church in which I was bom and the other being the influence upon me of Carlyle, Emerson, Channing and Theodore Parker — ^but we never combated each other in these fields — he drew me rather into new fields and especially into that in which Bushnell was supreme. On the whole, he influenced me much by what he wrote and said, but most by what he was. We were drawn together not only by our admiration of Professor — afterward President — Porter in his classroom, but also by Dr. Leonard Bacon in liis pulpit at the Centre COLLEGE DAYS 57 Church and by Horace Bushnell during his occasional appearances in the College Chapel, Dr. Porter, though not especially gifted as a speaker, took possession of our hearts. Dr. Bacon, by his discourses, impressed us both as a great prophet of righteousness. We, like all antislavery men of those days, liked best his sermons on special occasions, but there was a cynical epigram current at that time, "Dull as Dr. Bacon when he's nothing but the Gospel to preach," which both Hunger and myself resented, being sure that, Like fully one-half of all epigrams, it was untrue. Though I was obliged to attend the Episcopal church, I heard Dr. Bacon's ordinary sermons when I could, and never one of them which did not strongly impress me: and this, although Hunger's style caught nothing from Dr. Bacon's except its seriousness, was evidently my friend's experience also. As to Bushnell, he took hold of us both by his original thought and penetrating style. A sermon on Music preached by him at the opening of a new organ in the Chapel carried us both oflp our feet — as indeed it did great numbers of our fellows. Last year, more than sixty years afterward, one of these — Sprague — of the Class of 1852, repeated whole pages of it to me from memory. I ought also to say that both of us were really impressed by the character and sermons of President Woolsey. One of these discourses took stronger hold upon me than any other I ever heard in the College Chapel. Its subject was "Righteous Anger," and it dragged me out of the "mush 58 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER and slush" which passed in those days — and passes indeed in these also — as "philanthropj-," and "charity-" Coupled with Carlyle's "Model Prisons," it cleared my mind of masses of cant; it led me to realize that crime is not merely mis- fortune and to see clearly that this sham "mercy" has been a main cause of the fact that our country suffers more from crimes of violence, and especially from the crime of murder, than does any other civilized nation in the world. Munger was evidently influenced by the same feeling, and many years after our graduation invited me to give, in his pulpit at the North Church in New Haven, a discourse on "The Prob- lem of High Crime," which I had delivered before all sorts of audiences from Boston to San Francisco. He was giving or causing to be given, at that time, a course of "Sunday Evening Sermons to Men," and he wished my speech as one of these. The request rather startled me, for my utterances were hardly in the odor of sanctity just then among the majority of orthodox churchmen. But he pressed me and finally I yielded, it being agreed that he should conduct the religious part of the service. This he did, and read the chapter in Genesis recording the murder of Abel. From this I took my text: "Thy brother's blood calleth unto me from the ground," and I also took, as an additional text, the first of the three rights stated as fundamental in the Declara- tion of Independence — "The right to life." I showed that in no country besides our own does our brother's blood call more loudly and tliat in none is the first of these great COLLEGE DAYS 59 fundamental rights of the Declaration of Independence more disregarded. Immediately on my closing, Dr. Munger gave out a final hymn in these words : "I can think of but one way of fitly closing this sendee ; let us sing Charles Wesley's hymn, *A charge to keep I have.' " CHAPTER III TRAINING AND ORDINATION FOR THE MINISTRY 1852-1855 The class of '51 at Yale furnished the usual quota — then much larger than in recent years — of candidates for the ministry, including — also a more common phenomenon at that time — its foremost scholar' as well as a generous proportion of its leading men. A group of these classmates returned at the opening of the next term after graduation, to continue in Yale Divinity School their special training for the ministry. Among these, however, there were none of JNIunger's intimates. A larger number found it advisable or necessary, usually for financial reasons, to allow one or more years to intervene before con- tinuing their course of study. Plunger and Jessup were of those who remained at home a year. In the class of '55 of Yale Divinity School, Hunger found himself again associated with several classmates and 1 Rev. Thos. S. Potwin, subsequently an eminent teacher of classical and of biblical Greek. TRAINING AND ORDINATION 61 former Yale men. E. P. Smith, Charles J. Hutchin- son of the academic class of '49, Willis and Henry Colton (Yale '48) helped to form a congenial group, and there were, besides, three of Munger's own class. J. Y. Leonard and Henry Loomis were not among his intimate friends, but "Jack" Jenkins, who had received with delight at Leicester Academy, Mass., in June, 1852, "Thede's" announcement of his intended return to Yale, made arrangements at once to secure adjoining rooms in the old Divinity Build- ing (since demolished), where the two began and completed together their course of theological study. They had as neighbor in the same corridor the newly appointed college pastor, George P. Fisher, just returned from Germany and saturated with its theo- logical debate. Besides this group there was a former classmate and friend of Munger's who since graduation had remained in New Haven, a student in the Law School. This was E. N. Taft, whose friendship remained till the end a valued treasure of Munger's life. From a letter to Noble, written from Homer the October after graduation, we learn that the interruption of Munger's studies by a year at home was not due to financial stringencies, nor even to advice of friends. It was due to the young grad- uate's complete (though temporary) disenchantment 62 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER with college life, and revolt against being "tied to the college bell-rope." Nevertheless the year of freedom was "not a year of leisure, but of verj^ serious reflec- tion on many things, especially on one or two points in theologj% where the framework of Calvinism loos- ened and at last gave way."^ It was a year of "doing just as I please, working some, studying some and reading considerable"; but it included also "Sunday evenings in summer, when I climbed alone upon the high hill and lay down with my head pil- lowed on mj^ dog, while the stars and the stillness and darkness, and an intense sense of personality came out — meeting, or creating, as it were, a sense of the infinite Reality from which I have never escaped."' College experiences, as we have seen, had tended in Hunger's case almost to repel him from certain con- ventional forms of religious as well as of intellectual development. Had there been any wavering of his fundamental devotion to the service of the Christian ministry this was the time for it to show itself, a period when every college graduate is compelled to confront the question how he shall invest the accumu- lated resources of natural capacity and acquired dis- cipline, and when a large proportion of those whose 2 Address at Ordination Anniversary. 8 Ibid. TRAINING AND ORDINATION 63 preparation thus far has been for the ministry turn aside to some other vocation. Hunger's rebellion against college routine, however, was of brief dura- tion, and much too slight to affect his long-cherished purpose. Nothing can be more explicit than his assurance, "I entered the ministry because I had never for a moment thought of doing anything else." The correspondence with Jenkins shows in how genuine a spirit of consecration the decisive step was finally taken. Both young men were "placing before them the object of life, and living for it and it alone." Service was its keynote. The dissatisfaction with college drill has vanished, and each looks for- ward with keen relish to resuming work at Yale. Some of the "long, long thoughts" of the summer evenings on the hill may have been due to the new contacts gained during college days with literature and social life. They foreshadowed, perhaps, the dis- satisfaction of later years with current interpretations of religious truth, a dissatisfaction destined to make him one of the helpers of a perplexed generation into larger Freedom of Faith. There still exists a manu- script book of "Meditations, Thoughts, Quotations, etc.," covering the years 1853-1856, in which the young student of theology has set down in seventy- six entries, varying from a few lines to several pages 64 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER in length, the fruits of his reading and meditation. Style and language are as careful and well chosen as if intended for incorporation in sermons. That such was actually the fate of several has been noted on the margin. We may reasonably infer that it was a habit of real thinking — not of mere day-dreaming — which was begun on the hillside at Homer. One whom the American people have recently called to the highest office and responsibility in their gift has said: If I were to choose again (after Lincoln) a man to inject into modern American life, I would take some man who in his youth had had time to think. A man who had spent his boyhood in some quiet covert, where it is possible for the mind to indulge in what most Americans never indulge in — that is to say, reverie, contemplation.* Such was the quiet covert on the hillside at Homer. The youth's meditations there, if they "loosened the framework of Calvinism," did not check the deep springs of his religious faith, nor shake for a moment the conviction of his calling. The year at home was one that strengthened the parental influence. It brought him above all into a close sympathy with his mother's gentle and joyous faith, which was to be * Speech on Lincoln's Birthday by Woodrow Wilson at Berca College, 1911. TRAINING AND ORDINATION 65 a source of help and refreshment for many years to come. But it also had no small effect in confirming this sense of his vocation. "I suspect that at the bottom of this whole matter," he wrote in later retro- spect, "was the example of my father's daily life." "Advice from my wise father" was also numbered among the chief advantages of this year at home. Doubtless it included counsels regarding an effective use of further educational opportunities; but of this we are not told. The one counsel of which we have testimony concerns only the field of service. It was simple and characteristic: "Accept the first call given you." When the time for decision came this advice was implicitly followed. Although his room in Divinity Hall removed Mun- ger from the former closeness of contact with his uncle's family, he continued to avail himself of the high privileges of his former home. He was tempera- mentally fitted to get from it far more than many another might, and the relations entered upon in his undergraduate days he had the wisdom to appreciate and continue. He had, indeed, an instinct for find- ing and entering into that sympathetic, helpful friendship with older women which has well been termed one of the strongest of educative influences. Some few contacts took place also during the col- 66 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER lege and seminary daj^s with his Selden relatives in Middle Haddam and Middletown. In early spring of 1856, Theodore's Grandmother Selden had died, and her illness and death occasioned some brief visits. But fulness of duties and emptiness of purse were almost equally potent to keep him close-bound to New Haven. Of contact with his father's relatives in Guilford we have no record at all. If from these home and social surroundings we turn to those of seminarj'- life, evidence remains of conscientious method on the part of the j^oung stu- dent in the improvement of his opportunities. His notebooks of lectures on History by President Woolsey in the final undergraduate year, and that of seminary lectures by Professor Josiah Willard Gibbs on Theological Encyclopaedia and Hermeneu- tics, are still preserved, and contain, besides the out- line of these studies, extracts from collateral reading, and full notes, systematically taken, of the sermons of great divines, Woolsey, Tajdor, Bushnell, Fitch, Bacon, Fisher, and others, heard from Sunday to Sunday in the coUege chapel and in the churches of the city. The sermon notes cover the academic years 1852-1853 and 1853-1854, filling all the latter part of the large notebooks, whose earlier pages are scant- ily occupied with the lecture notes. Comparison is TRAINING AND ORDINATION 67 unwarranted, but one is tempted to suspect that the young theologue found the actual delivery of ser- mons more in line with his immediate wants than the prescribed studies of the curriculum. Few courses of lectures could have greater value in practical training for pulpit work than these carefully written- out sketches of sermons by great preachers and theologians. They include, among others, a very full report of the famous sermon of Bushnell on "The Greatness of Man Seen in his Ruin." This was preached November 27, 1853, at the "North" Church, of which Munger himself more than thirty years later was to become pastor. In the same church, on March 20, 1855, just at the close of Munger's seminary course, occurred one of the most stirring scenes of New Haven's history. It was the appeal of the pastor. Dr. Dutton, aided by Henry Ward Beecher, in behalf of the company of free-soil settlers on their way to Kansas. Beecher urged that they be supplied not only with Bibles, but with arms to resist the attempts of border ruffians to drive them from their homes. The appeal was responded to by a contribution sufficient for the pur- chase of twenty-seven Sharpe's rifles at twenty-five dollars each. Whether the young antislavery ethusi- ast in the Divinity School was present on this occa- 68 THEODORE THORNTON IMUNGER sion we have no record, but if not it surely was not from lack of sympathy. The contemporary theological discussions scarcely interested him. It would be easy indeed to form too disparaging a judgment of the courses of study and what they could furnish, if we relied wholly on the contrast drawn by Hunger himself at a later time between these and the modern curriculum. Against the statement that he "followed Dr. Taylor through a course of theology which soon ceased to have much meaning" for him, it is onlj^ fair to set his contem- porary judgment, written to his classmate Noble, lit- tle more than a year after the letter explaining his change of plan in not returning to New Haven. It is under date December 14, 1852, that he writes: I wish you could listen to a course of lectures from Dr. Taylor, He is the strongest, clearest, most convincing thinker I ever met with, and I may say, ever read. He has a system of mental philosophy of his own which is unlike any other, and as his system of theology is built upon that he lectures to us a whole term upon it. I cannot imagine a more thorough discipline than could be gained from this course, and it is as useful to the lawyer as to the divinity student. As I said, all my old opinions are completely cast adrift, yet I hope to get foundations that will stand the test of logic, and will not fail in unlooked-for crises. TRAINING AND ORDINATION 69 The year after graduation had seen no interrup- tion of college friendships. Letters from Jenkins and Jessup show how all three were weighing the merits of the principal theological schools against one another, and against their desire to be together. Jenkins had expected Munger to return with him at the close of the summer to enter Yale Divinity School, and was much disappointed at the change of plan which kept him in Homer, though he himself later decided to spend the year in other work, and secured an appointment to teach in the Academy at Leicester, Mass. Jessup spent a year of study in Montrose, but after careful deliberation elected Union Seminary, New York, as affording the best training. He even secured a promise from Munger to take the next year (1853-1854) at Union if Jessup would be his roommate. However, the ensuing year we find Jenkins and Munger trying to draw Jessup to New Haven instead of themselves being drawn to Union. A letter from Jessup, dated November 4, 1852, is of interest in this connection; for it indicates how the two friends at Yale had enlarged upon its advantages. They are met by equal appreciation of those at Union. But the correspondence is chiefly significant for its evidence of the spirit which ani- mated all three and which it is very obvious was no 70 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER new thing, but an inheritance of former college days. Jessiip writes: I cannot but be humbly and sincerely thankful when I recollect how we were wont to bring our mutual hopes, and breathe our united prayers to our heavenly Father upon a common altar — and that we are now entering upon the work which is the consummation of those hopes, and, I trust, to be blessed in answer to those prayers. Nothing would please me more than to enjoy a renewal of that delightful personal intercourse, especially in our theological studies ; but I am so well satisfied with the course of things here, that I feel more like urging you to come here, than consenting to exchange my place for yours. The writer goes on to refer to the lectures given by Dr. Edward Robinson, which later formed the epoch- making volumes of "Palestinian Research." He refers next to "Prof. H. B. Smith" as "inferior to no man in Yale, excepting your giant. Dr. Taylor," and proceeds thereafter to describe the character and spirit of the Junior class of which he is a member, a class then numbering thirty-one. The personal matters with which the letter closes include one further item of special interest: I am glad to hear favorable reports from my cousin Elisha [Mulford]. Encourage him to keep an "eye to the TRAINING AND ORDINATION 71 Lord Jesus," for he is beset with trying difficulties. I do not allude to any one thing in particular, but the almost irresistible tendency in college to spiritual decHne. You can appreciate my feelings, I trust. Mulford had been an object of solicitude to the two friends for several months; for Hunger's affection for the handsome, graceful boy, though a case of love at first sight, was no mere passing fancy. Of their first meeting Munger writes : When at home from college one vacation I called on a group of Jessups and Mulfords and by way of entertainment Elisha passed around a dish of cracked walnuts. His beauty and his manners impressed me in a way I shall never forget. A boy with the forehead of a girl — so pure and white was it, modest to shyness and yet with the dignity of a man, while the grace with which he served his simple offering might have been envied by a courtier. It was more than highbred; it was the early growth and perfection of an abiding grace of manner that never forsook him. But it was not the casual impression of manly beauty that laid the foundations for Hunger's long friendship with Mulford, "the friend of my mind as well as my heart." In their first days of divinity training the group of friends were already paving the way for a younger associate who in genius perhaps 72 THEODORE THORNTON IMUNGER excelled them all. We may fittingly close this series of extracts bearing on the value of the training then to be had in the leading schools of divinity, by a pas- sage from the earliest of the long series of ^Nlunger's letters to Mulford. INIulford had but recently grad- uated, and seeks advice from Munger as to where he should begin his ministerial training. The advice is given after a year of parish work — the letter is dated Dorchester, Mass., December 26, 1856 — from expe- rience in two seminaries, Yale and Andover; for Munger, after graduating at Yale Divinity School, had spent one fall term at Andover. After a preliminary expression of his own diffi- culty, not in preaching so as to win acceptance with both thinking and unthinking, but so "that the gospel shall have its proper effect," the writer continues : You ask about Taylor and Park. As to securing a knowl- edge of New England theology, you, with your habits of mind and study would acquire a thorough understanding of it at either place. Park will give it to you more complete and in neater form. You will grasp it more easily from liim. Taylor impresses you with its strong and distinctive features. Taylor makes you feel it more, but he does not put it into such shape that you can retail it out Sunday by Sunday in the right proportion. Park does. This may strike you, however, as not the most important thing in the world. TRAINING AND ORDINATION 73 As to acquaintance with Theology, either place will help you sufficiently. This is not the point in which I think the institutions are to be compared. The comparison is to be made as to the effects they produce upon your mental habits, and in this respect I put Taylor far above Park. Indeed, I think it is this influence which constitutes Taylor's value as a teacher. Park is perfectly round and smooth. Noth- ing strikes you. He makes everything perfectly clear — infant baptism, and the plan of redemption — but, he impresses you no more with one than the other. He floods you with proof and illustrations, but somehow they never get further than your note-book. He instructs you wonderfully, but he does not edify, and I take it no set of men need edifying so much as theological students. Yet Park is a splendid man and a splendid teacher. You should hear him, and especially you should know him. I can certainly assure you that he would take to you. Taylor, on the other hand, exercises a positive power upon you. He is a genius in theology — an enthusiast, and he makes you feel. Somehow he plants a truth within a man and it becomes life and power. You will think for weeks on some thought or view that he throws out. In short he is a Teacher, and a true Teacher is rarer than a true Poet. Should you hear him you would probably at first revolt from him. You would be disgusted with his dogmatism and won- der where his power lies. But wait and yield yourself to his influence and soon you will see and feel it. 74 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER The chief effects of his teaching, I think, are these. He makes you feel a few important truths strongly. He makes you think for yourself; and no man can be effective without some degree of these. The advice sent to Mulford from Dorchester shows that the delay of Munger's "mental and moral awakening" until the period of study at Andover was not due to inferiority of training or opportunity at Yale. Among external conditions which led up to it a more potent factor than the courses of lectures may have been the group of brilliant j^oung men who were thrown together as fellow-students, and who remained fast friends thereafter. This group included besides Munger and Jenkins, Alexander S. Twombly (Yale '54) of literary fame, J. Lewis Diman (Brown '51), and Kingsley Twining (Yale *53). In the packet of documents containing Dr. Mun- ger's ministerial credentials, the document of earliest date is his "Approbation to Preach," certifying that he appeared "at a meeting of the Associated Pastors of New Haven Centre," held in the surburban town of Orange, July 12, 1854, and was commended to examination by Rev. N. W. Taylor, D.D., whereupon after a full and free examination of him TRAINING AND ORDINATION 75 concerning his religious history and experience, his acquaint- ance with the Holy Scriptures and the system of Christian doctrines, his views of the Ministry, and his qualifications generally for that work, he was approved by vote. The first signature appended is that of Leonard Bacon, pastor of the First Church, New Haven. Examination for approbation to preach was no slight ordeal when conducted in the presence of veterans such as Taylor and Bacon. These fathers of the Connecticut churches were scrupulous of the rights of the local Congregational church to ordain and install as pastor and teacher the man of its own choice, even against the advice of sister churches. But for that very reason they were the more conscious of their own responsibility, as ministers voluntarily uniting in free associations, to lend the endorsement of their approval to no candidates for ecclesiastical office who had not furnished ample evidence of both character and competency. It is a system capable of being reduced to travesty if mere conformity to orthodox standards be accepted as a substitute for evidence of character, consecration, and ability to teach and preach. But conformity has never been the ideal of the Connecticut churches, and in the year which saw the last vain effort to restrain the inspired 76 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER genius of Bushnell with the halter of ecclesiastical discipline, an examination of the New Haven Central Association for approbation to preach is likely to have called forth other "qualifications for the work of the ministry." We may cite a paragraph or two from IVIunger's own "Life of Bushnell" to indicate what sort of atmosphere prevailed in these years 1853-1854 in the ministerial associations of Hartford and New Haven. In June, 1853, a third effort was made by the Fairfield West Association to bring Bushnell to trial. The form of attack was a demand, signed by fifty ministers, that the Hartford Central (Bushnell's) Association be excluded from the general body, on the ground that by protecting Bush- nell it had sanctioned a scheme wliich "is a corruption of God's holy truth, a subversion of all ^^tal and fundamental doctrines of Christianity, and destructive of confidence in revelation itself." ... A long and bitter debate (in the General Association) was brought to a close by an adroit resolution presented by Dr. Leonard Bacon: "With the opinions imputed to Dr. Bushnell by the complainants, we have no fellowship. Candidates for the ministry who profess them should not be approved. Ministers reasonably charged with holding them are properly subject to discipline in due form and order. But whether these opinions are justly imputed to Dr. Bushnell, or not, depends upon the construe- TRAINING AND ORDINATION 77 tion given to certain quotations from his books ; and upon that question we have nothing to say." The final effort of the Fairfield West was made the next year, 1854, at the annual meeting (in June) in New Haven. Resolutions were introduced requesting the General Asso- ciation "to cease from appointing persons to certify to the standing of ministers in its connection." Once more catholicity and freedom prevailed, mak- ing this, as our author notes, "probably the last effort that will be made in New England to bring an author to trial for his theological opinions." And the men who stood by Bushnell, defending his right to differ, and finally establishing the principle of freedom for the ministry, were the same New Haven divines who had issued the first, and in some respects the severest, criticism of Bushnell's opinions. It is one of the anomalies of Hunger's seminary career that he and his classmates in the New Haven school should have taken (so far as our records show) no special inter- est in these events, so significant for the history of Congregationalism. Our young preacher's growth during these semi- nary years in ability to handle the great subjects of his calling must be largely left to inference. His 78 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER letters and reminiscences are mainly concerned with other things. This to his mother, written from New Haven, March 7, 1854, on the Tuesday after his first occupation of the pulpit — for occasional preaching was permitted then, as now, by special recommenda- tion, in advance of formal approbation — will show the spirit in which the new responsibility was taken up: My dear Mother: As it is so long since I have written you, and as my birth- day is just past, I think I ought to write you rather than any other of the family, though, as you know, I intend ray letters — what few I write — for all the family. Another circumstance happened on Sunday, my birthday, which I wish to tell you, as it is probably of especial interest to you. Sunday was a birthday in more than one sense to me. As marking the number of the years of my life it was the twenty-f ourth ; but with reference to my course in the ministry it was my first birthday, for I then preached my first sermon. ... I preached in Mt. Carmel, which is the first place mentioned in "Shadyside." I think it is there called "Salem." Good "Deacon El}^" and the deacon who was the "left hand cipher," and other people mentioned in the book, were among my hearers. . . . As to my preaching, / cannot of course tell you whether it was good or not, but I succeeded much better than I anticipated. I was not at all frightened and felt very much TRAINING AND ORDINATION 79 f at ease in the pulpit. I held their attention very well, and heard that my sermon was liked. Mr. T[hayer],^ of course, would praise my sermon. But because I succeeded there it is no indication that I should succeed before a city congre- gation, or your congregations in Homer and Cortland. All I hope is to find some small country congregation whose wants I can supply as a teacher of God's word. Everyone has liis place in the world, and if I do not find mine to be in the ministry, I hope I shall have wisdom to perceive it and enough strength of character to leave it. The summer vacation of 1854 was again spent in Homer, where an interview with the new pastor of the church, Rev. Dr. Lounsbury, helped the young preacher in his calling. It left its mark in another event which remained an abiding and grateful memory in the young preacher's soul — his parents' satisfaction in the first fruits of his work. In the old home church at Homer he had conducted the service on invitation of the pastor, his parents worshiping in the congregation. His mother hardly raised her eyes during the sermon, the boy knowing that her heart was too full of prayer for him and thankfulness to God. His father's only comment after the service was the single sentence, "You preached a very good 5 Pastor of the church in the village of Mt. Carmel, ten miles north of New Haven, on whose invitation Hunger was preaching. 80 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER sermon." But it was uttered with a "calm and fixed earnestness" that impressed it indelibly on the heart of his son/ From the scanty records of the closing seminary year we have but two inferences to draw. It was a year of increasing opportunitj^ for pulpit service, engaged in with some reluctance, and never without careful and sober preparation. Invitations to preach were frequent and many were accepted, the incidental earnings being a welcome aid in reducing the debt incurred for college expenses. Mt. Carmel appears a second time on the list during this winter, along with Birmingham and North Cornwall in Litchfield County, a rather long Sabbath day's journey. There were several successive engagements in the last-named towns, Birmingham having three preaching services on 3Iarch 25, 1855, after which the preacher iccdked the ten miles to New Haven to save forty cents car- fare. By this means he was enabled to apply nine dollars and sixty cents out of his ten-dollar honora- rium toward the payment of his debts, and he speaks 8 The reminiscence is one of the latest of Dr. Munger's life and refers to "my first preaching in Homer after my ordination, before my father and my mother." As his diary for 1856 contains a record of preaching in Homer on January 6, a month before his ordination, the word "approbation" should probably be substituted in the reminiscence for "ordination." TRAINING AND ORDINATION 81 confidently of being able to leave New Haven free of debt. Jenkins and he are planning to go together early in May to Andover, where they expect to be able to support themselves by preaching until at least the opening of the fall term. The fame of Park is not the only attraction. Andover was considered to have an "invigorating climate." Throat trouble of a some- what serious character had made its appearance in connection with much preaching and "influenza" and "the doctor advises me strongly to leave New Haven lest my throat disease become chronic, and so trouble- some." The winter of 1854-1855 was one of special solici- tude for the religious welfare of the home circle. A "revival" had been in progress in Homer, and among those first led to conviction of the need of grace were Theodore's two j^ounger brothers, John Hezekiah, or "Ki," and Edward.^ A long letter of sympathy and advice addressed to "Dear brother Ki" on February 8 expressed both joy and anxiety at the news of his hopeful conversion. Very elaborate advice is given, as befits an older brother just entering the ministry, but there is abundant evidence of the pervasive revi- val atmosphere in spite of all that in Hunger's case 7 A letter from "Ki" gives us insight not only into the boy's religious experience, but also into the truly remarkable phenomena of this revival. 82 THEODORE THORNTON IVIUNGER had tended to counteract it. Phrases such as the fol- lowing slip from his pen, "When one is convicted and finds peace after his anguish, there will be much feel- ing and excitement." The advice to make "a cool, intelligent renunciation of the world" is certainly sound, and the deprecation of excitement shows appreciation of the characteristic dangers to which revivalism is exposed. But the system itself is accepted. A few weeks later Theodore writes to his mother : I wish I could be with you now on account of the revival. I think it would do me good; and even the knowledge that you were in the midst of such scenes has been of benefit to me. I rejoice with you that we are permitted to hope that Ki and Eddy have exercised saving faith in Christ. ... I have also written Selden (his older brother at this time married and in business in Potterville, N. Y.) on religious matters. Let our prayers go up for him also till he be saved. The minute analj^sis of "feelings and views," the diagnosis and prognosis of the course of sj^mptoms each soul is expected to pass through, has in our time a curiously pathological appearance. But of its reality to devout people there can be no question. And to young Munger it seemed only the excres- cences and abuses of revivalism which were open to criticism. To many at that time, the coming of a soul TRAINING AND ORDINATION 83 into wholesome relations with God apart from the recognized process would have seemed as strange as the healing of a wound by first intention. The plan of studying for a time at Andover after completing the course at Yale was ultimately carried out, though Jenkins was disappointed in his expecta- tion of the immediate coming of his friend. May 11, 1855, sees him already established at Andover, with adequate means of support from preaching. But Munger had not accompanied him in this early flight. He spent the summer in Homer. On September 24, 1855, a letter from Andover to his mother reports his safe arrival and occupation of quarters in a large attic room "twenty feet square, with matting for a carpet," having a delightful view to the south and east. "The charge for room and board is $4.00 per week." Here, among his college friends, in regular attendance on the lectures, with occasional preaching in the neigh- boring pulpits, he spent the three months of the fall term; and here occurred that moral and spiritual awakening of his whole nature to which he later testified. The Village Church of Dorchester Lower Mills was one of those whose pulpit Munger was called upon to supply during his student life at Andover, and it was not long before this church reached the 84, THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER decision that it required his services as settled pastor. Its leading member was a Mr. Cyrus Brewer, one of the few of wealth and position in that small industrial community. Mr. Brewer was a cultured gentleman to whose friendship, Christian sympathy, and hearty cooperation the j^oung pastor owed much in the first years of his ministry. Under date of November 15, 1855, ISIr. Brewer writes to report the action of a church meeting held the previous Tuesday, resulting in a unanimous call to Munger to become their pastor at a salary — as liberal as the parish could afford — of $800. The unanimity was not formal or perfunctory. Mr. Brewer writes: Never since the organization of the church has there been so much union of sentiment upon a similar matter. I have been unable to learn that there is even an indi\'idual member of the whole parish who does not regard you as the best man for us. We might anticipate such unanimity if the young preacher had previously intimated — as custom re- quires — that he was prepared to give favorable con- sideration to a call. Munger's talents and prepara- tion were such as to make it reasonably certain that he had only to bide his time to be offered a much more inviting field of service, at larger remuneration. This TRAINING AND ORDINATION 85 fact was certainly quite apparent to the Village Church. Indeed, Jenkins felt called upon to expostu- late in the light of more worldly wisdom and experi- ence. Report of "Thede's" sermons by JNIr. (Linus) Child of Boston, a competent and unprejudiced critic, convinces Jenkins that "without flattery" his friend "can have about such a place as he likes." Eight hun- dred dollars could not "buj^ bread for two" and such a settlement implies indefinite postponement of all thought of marriage. "If it seems dutj^ go; and God will bless j^ou ; but realize the renunciation it implies." Such are "the suggestions of Mr. Child." And Jen- kins adds: "His advice is sound." But earlier advice from a more intimate quarter prevailed. "Accept the first call offered" had been Ebenezer Munger's one counsel to his son in matters regarding the ministry. It was now acted upon, though without haste, and after full enquiry and deliberation. Munger's acceptance, however, sent from Boston on December 3, was framed in anytliing but a spirit of renunciation. Two reasons are given for breaking off his studies earlier than he had planned, to accept the caU: (1) "A growing desire to be more actively engaged in the service to which, I trust, God has called me; (2) the apparent fitness of the situation for the commencement of my labors. 86 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER springing from the unanimity and the kind considera- tion manifested in 3^our invitation." In the remain- der of the letter it is the reverse of a sense of superi- ority to the field opened to him that controls his thought. As his own later reflection expresses it: "I was glad enough to have a place and a pulpit to preach in." Services of ordination and installation were arranged, after much correspondence with Mr. Brewer and Hunger's ministerial friends, for Wednesday, February 6, 1856. The young preacher prepared himself to face again the ordeal of an examination by his "fathers and brethren" in the ministrj^ The council, summoned by "letters missive" from the Village Church of Dorchester, would include also lay delegates from neighboring churches. Its enquiry would begin with an examination of the proceedings on both sides relat- ing to the call ; thereafter of the candidate himself with respect to his religious experience, motives for enter- ing the ministry, preparation, capacity, and ortho- doxy. If when "by itself" — that is, tlie public and all interested parties having retired — the council should vote to approve the action of the church, and to "join with it in the proposed services of ordination and installation," the services would proceed. A joint TRAINING AND ORDINATION 87 committee representing the church and council, and usually including the candidate, would indorse or modify the prepared program, and arrange for ser- vices of worship including the never-failing "ser- mon." The distinctive features of a Congregational ordination service are five in number. After ( 1 ) the reading of the minutes of the council; follows (2) the solemn "ordaining prayer," offered usually by one of the most venerable of the attending pastors, while two others join with him at a given point in the ritual in laying hands on the head of the kneeling candidate, thus jointly invoking the gift of the Spirit. Next comes (3) the "charge to the pastor," based on the apostolic message of Paul to Timothy, or (in case of ordination alone, without installation in a particular parish, as in the case of missionaries and teachers ) on the general apostolic commission. There is (4) a "right hand of fellowship" extended in behalf of the churches and the ministry, usually by some recently ordained friend or associate of the candidate. In case the services include installation, there is lastly, sometimes in less serious vein, (5) a "charge" or "address to the Church and Ecclesiastical Society." The Congregational polity is seen at its best in the proper working of a council of ordination. The intelligent participation of an absolute democracy of 88 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER men and women, each of whom has, after personal religious experience, voluntarily applied for and been received into church membership upon vows of entire consecration, is presupposed. Every act has the majesty and dignity that are inseparable from reli- gious rites performed with perfect simplicity and sincerity. There are no "dead" forms. Ritual is strictly limited to the symbolism of Scripture, and even that only on condition of its still reflecting a real and living sense. On the other hand it suffers from the weakness of all pure democracies. It is no stronger than its primary assumption. The pre- supposition is that lay members of churches are all men and women who have intelligently and consist- ently consecrated themselves to the gospel and king- dom of Christ, and that ministers are all qualified by character, training, and sense of their apostolic com- mission, to be the representatives and leaders of churches thus constituted. Because so large a measure of individual freedom is granted on this fundamental assumption, it becomes the more easily possible for the solemnity and appropriateness of the proceedings to be vitiated by a lack of individual responsibility. A generation or more ago the danger was that councils would accept mere conformity to a conventional type of traditional orthodoxy in place of TRAINING AND ORDINATION 89 that all-round fitness of character, capacity, and train- ing which the polity contemplates, as a condition of commendation to the ministry. Today the reaction against doctrinal forms is far advanced. Our danger is not so much from over-strictness in any one field, as from laxity in all. Less can be expected today from the average church member in the way of intel- ligent, appreciative, and worthy participation in such acts of the church as the ordination of its ministry. Unless much recent experience be at fault, less can also be expected of the average candidate. There are wide regions where the Congregational polity pre- vails, yet the ordaining and installing council is obso- lescent or unknown. Others exist where it has be- come so perfunctory, or so perverted from its original sincerity and solemnity, that one could almost prefer it unknown. How to conserve in the future the spirit of the ancient polity under changing forms is our present problem. "7/ the council approved," was the form under which at Dorchester, as elsewhere, it was necessary to make preparations for the services of ordination and installation. And the condition was by no means pro forma. If the council did not approve, appeal might be taken to the primary principle of Congregational- ism, the autonomy of the local church. Against the 90 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER advice of its sister churches represented in the council, against the advice of any number of subsequent coun- cils it might see fit to call, the local church would still have the right to ordain and install the candidate. But at this point the second leading principle of Congregationalism, the fellowship of the churches, would make itself felt. Counsel invited and given under such solemn sanctions cannot be lightly disre- garded. Instances have occurred more than once in Congregational history in which churches have fallen back upon this ultimate right, but seldom without disaster. Isolation of both church and minister auto- matically follows upon offense given. Rarely indeed will a church prove so unanimous in overriding the solemn veto of a council of its own choosing as to permit even the calling of a second council. This, if really representative, will almost inevitably reaffirm the verdict of its predecessor. If not representative, the summoning of it only increases the isolation first incurred. Under very exceptional circumstances the persistent adherents of a ministerial candidate dis- approved by council have organized a separate church, ordained (or installed) the man, and lived for a time their separate and independent life. But the histor}^ of such organizations has not often been such as to encourage imitation, and disapprobation TRAINING AND ORDINATION 91 by council is usually final in the case of any proposed union of pastor and people. Thus the Congrega- tional polity, by reducing authority to its minimum, has also approximated its automatic application. At Dorchester the session of the council was typi- cal. The examination was neither perfunctory nor intolerant. The candidate himself speaks of it as follows : My examination by council passed fairly well. One answer given was heretical to such a degree that a brother harnessed his horse and went home to Quincy rather than countenance this departure from orthodoxy. ... I gave the point up after a few months of reflection. The escape from closer treatment was due to the elder Dr. Storrs, of Braintree — then an aged man, but full of the fire of youth, a man of great eloquence and universally venerated, but his chief reputation lay in the fact that whenever a minister fell into any trouble, moral or heretical, he had but to appeal to Dr. Storrs, who would fight for him against law or council until he was delivered. He easily persuaded this council to overlook my dehnquency, and I entered into the ministry with a fairly good character. The services of ordination and installation were accordingly "proceeded with" in this instance, accord- ing to program. Dr. Storrs, the stalwart champion of catholicity and individual common sense, himself 92 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER preached the sermon, and subsequently in a letter of extraordinary cordiality expressed his regard for the j^oung minister, and his desire to show him every mark of fellowship. This expression was accom- panied by the very urgent counsel to take unto him- self a worthy wife. Jenkins, himself recently ordained at Lowell, gave the right hand of fellowship. His address, over- flowing with Christian sympathy, made feeling refer- ence to the group of college and seminary mates, of whom some were already "preaching Christ on the Pacific shore" and one (Jessup) but a few weeks before had "sailed for his work in Syria." At the close of the evening's services the young pastor engaged in his first official act by invoking the divine blessing, in the form of the Apostolic Benedic- tion, upon the congregation gathered from Dorches- ter and its neighbor towns in the Village Church. CHAPTER IV FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 1856-1860 The Christmas holidays after the term at Andover had beeen spent by young Hunger in a visit home. The farewells spoken at its conclusion as he returned, ready for his ordination at Dorchester, were doubtless charged with silent regret on both sides that his parents could not be present to witness his induction into the sacred office. Both father and mother had for years directed their prayers, their sacrifices, and their counsel to this end. But the family exchequer was too limited to permit the journey. On the other hand, we possess an example of what the son referred to as "my wise father's advice," which would scarcely have been preserved had it not been for these limita- tions. It is a letter from Ebenezer Hunger to his son, dispatched from Homer immediately after receiving an account of the ordination. The letter is docketed in the son's handwriting "Father. Febru- ary, 1856. Advice on entering my ministry in Dor- 94 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER Chester." And again: "Re-read April 23, 1872, with tender reverence and gratitude, and with thanks to God for the memory of such a Father." The advice so richly deserves the son's encomium and bore such excellent fruit that we cannot forbear a few extracts : Deae Son: I recv'd yours of February 7th. You are now settled down permanently and I have thought it might not be amiss for me, having had much experience with ministers and church affairs, to write to you making some suggestions and giving some advice to jou, now as you are commencing a new sphere of action in life. I have but little fear about your pulpit labours that they will not be acceptable, but I am afraid you will run into the extreme of laying out too much labour upon your sermons, thinking you cannot preach any but of the most finished composition. The first year of your ministry you will form a habit of writing sermons which will probably last through hfe, and it is important that you form good habits in this respect. If you adopt a hasty, careless manner of writing this will be an evil on the other extreme. I will only say, Avoid both extremes. The other duties devolving upon you — holding conference meetings, making pastoral visits, etc. — you will find more difficult, having had no experience. It is not easy to give any advice on these subjects. You will have to leam by experience. Perform these duties in the fear of God, looking FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 95 to Him for wisdom to direct your steps, and you will not fail of success in your efforts to be useful. The great and ultimate object of the ministry of the gospel is to bring back a revolted world into reconciliation with God, through the merits of Christ. It not unf requently happens that a minister labours long and faithfully and sees no good and immediate result from his labours. He sees no sinners converted, he becomes discouraged, feels that he is doing no good and thinks of changing his position in consequence. He forgets the influence his preaching has had in producing a good religious and moral tone in the community around him, that he has been sowing the good seed of the word of God, which will not return void, that he has been imbuing the minds of the young with religious knowledge which will prepare them to receive the Saviour in a time of revival. In the last Observer I find this sentence from Dr. Plummer, "God is not pleased or displeased with ministers on the score of success, but on the score of fidelity. If they zealously, constantly, scripturally, present Christ to the people in their sermons and addresses they please Him who has called them." After all I beheve the success of a minister depends very much upon his piety, the state of his heart. It is all important that a minister be spiritually minded. The early years of Hunger's ministry cannot be better described than as a loj^al and persistent en- deavor to put in practice the sound principles 96 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER here inculcated. Dorchester Lower [Mills became the stage for four years of systematic, industrious effort on the part of the young pastor of the Village Church. The parish was "worked,"' to use his own expression, to the limit of its capacity. "It was small in num- bers," he writes, "and compact in territory, but had it embraced half of Boston it would not have been larger than my own measurement of it."" He set to work as a true cultivator of souls, looking upon each home within its limits as a garden plot under his own charge and responsibihty. The pastor's visiting book, carefully kept during these years, is still in existence, with its description of each family, its membership, and relation to the church, and on the opposite page a record of visits, marriages, funerals, baptisms, and the like. A diary, somewhat irregularly kept in previous years, assumes an unbroken regularity from January 1, 1856. It was continued throughout his life. Here the record of visits appears again, a sort of bookkeeping by double entry. And system was not a substitute for soul, but its vehicle and support. There were few social barriers to full sympathy and mutual confidence and affec- 1 "Class History," p. 224. "A small charge, but I could not have worked it harder had it been the largest in Boston." - Reminiscences at Jubilee of Ordination. FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 97 tion ; for while the opportunities of culture and refine- ment so richly afforded the j^oung minister during the preceding eight years of his life had been denied to most of his parishioners, there was little at that time of the present foreign immigration to New England mill villages, and most of the people were then of the same English Puritan stock, and of the same religious inheritance.^ Moreover, the young pastor was quite as impecunious as the majority of his flock. His salary of $800 had not only to provide food, shelter, and clothing for himself, but was now called upon to repay some of the home sacrifices made to secure his education. For his kindred generally this period proved financially disastrous. George Smith, the husband of his sister Cynthia, had died in 1847, and his widow with her two children had returned to her parents' home. Theodore's younger brothers, Heze- kiah and Edward, had barely attained to self-support. Very shortly after, the head of the household, Eben- ezer Hunger, the beloved physician, was taken away at the age of sixty-three. His death occurred after a brief attack of typhoid fever, October 15, 1857. Meantime the oldest son, Selden, had married a 3 Every name on the original roll of membership at the formation of the church in 1829 is of this distinctive type. The list is printed on p. 11 of the "Historical Discourse," delivered at the Jubilee, 1879. 98 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER daughter of Judge Fenn of Prattsville, N. Y., and for a few j^ears was prosperously established with his brothers-in-law in a large tannery in Potterville, N. Y. But this business failed in 1859 and he emi- grated to Wisconsin to begin life again on a farm in the township of Merton. Thus a large share of the financial support of the widowed mother and sister came upon the young minister before the end of his four years' pastorate in Dorchester. He was also their never-failing comforter and sympathizer. Fre- quent are the entries in the cash account from 1856 to 1860 of gifts "for Mother" and "for Cyntliia," besides occasional disbursements "for Ki" and "for Ed." If, then, the Dorchester parishioners were poor, the pastor was no richer. But more than the mere equal- ity of condition was the sentiment which throughout Munger's life forbade him, among other things, ever to take fees for burying a dead parishioner. To many the practice of accepting funeral fees from parish- ioners will seem as little open to objection as wedding fees. In cases where a service is rendered to indi- viduals that make no contribution to the minister's salary it is obviously fitting. But Munger's sense of propriety was too keen to permit what he felt to be a taint upon the service he was glad to render in every FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 99 house of mourning, even beyond the confines of his parochial charge.* Pastoral relations that leave behind them senti- ments of this kind do not degenerate into formalities. We cannot wonder, however, that Theodore writes to his mother, under date September 22, 1856: "A minister's life, if faithful, must be busy. About twice as much is required as one man can properly perform." The pastoral service was systematic and faithful. Far more than this, it was loving. But while the young pastor showed a deeper appreciation than many of his colleagues of the value of this side of ministerial service, he was far from giving it the principal place. His tendencies, as his father had foreseen, were toward the other extreme. In his reminiscences, he writes : I had spent all my adult Hfe thinking and dreaming of sermons. I must confess that I did not then believe with Professor Drummond that "Love is the Greatest Thing in the World." I thought the sermon was the greatest thing. So sermon writing became a weekly exercise requir- 4 An article written by him in opposition to the practice of accepting funeral fees, in The Congregationalist for 1871, was commented on by Dr. Hunger some forty years later as correct in principle though "violent in expression." 100 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER ing utmost care and study. Nor was the writing all. While still in New Haven Jenkins and Hunger had combined their slender resources to secure additional training for voice and delivery from the college instructor, Prof. Mark Bailey, to whom no less an orator than Abraham Lincoln applied not long after for similar instruction. The vocal exercises practiced in New Haven and Homer were still kept up syste- matically even to middle life. In Dorchester he resorted for the purpose to secluded spots at some distance from the house. Returning to his lodging on one occasion the orator found considerable difficulty in securing admission. When at last bolts and bars were withdrawn he learned that the unusual precau- tion of locking up the house had been taken for pro- tection against "a crazy man who had been shouting around the place." That affection of the throat which we saw to have been partly responsible for Hunger's coming to Andover left no serious consequences, but there was, and continued to be, occasion for the development of a more vigorous style of pulpit delivery. Of this Hunger himself was fully conscious. The weakness was exposed in his father's letter of advice. It was touched upon again, both kindly and courteously, some years later, in a letter from Horace Bushnell, BRONZE TABLET IN MEMORIAL HALL YALE UNIVERSITY FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 101 written after certain sermons preached in Bushnell's church in Hartford, which had brought Munger into consideration as a possible successor to the great preacher, then incapacitated by illness. The criticism was that in delivery Munger was "too nearly a liter- ary gentleman in his habit, not enough of an apostle." His years of systematic effort to acquire greater vocal power and force of oratory were characteristic. He did not acquiesce, demanding of the people accommo- dation to liis "st3de," but labored to perfect himself. So with the composition of sermons, which his father had foreseen would be his natural bent. The carefully numbered and indexed list of sermons of these early years is still extant. It grew but slowly; for in accepting his call the young preacher had wisely stipulated for four weeks' vacation, and liberty "to exchange half the time during the first year, or as often as might be necessary." Thus not every week demanded its quota. Y^et the writing of new sermons in addition to the accumulations of seminary days was no small task. The standard could not be let down to meet the level of the congregation. Hunger's own culture and self-respect would have forbidden slip- shod literary work, even without his father's warning and the frequently recurring stimulus of preaching by exchange in Boston, Lowell, and other towns. 102 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER Moreover, his efforts to keep in touch with the best thought of the time, theological and general, were effective and soon received an impetus from unex- pected sources. Proximity to Boston was of no small advantage. Many a ^Monday was spent in the Old Corner Book- store carefully selecting the slender stock of books a meagre purse allowed,^ and dipping into many more that might be skimmed, but not purchased. "Anni- versary week" was a great occasion, when the "^Nlay meetings" of the "State Conference" and "^liniste- rial Associations" were held, including reports from some of the more important denominational "Boards." There were also meetings of the then newly formed Young Men's Christian Association and other organizations. Boston was a place where one might hear on these occasions speakers such as Henry Ward Beecher and John B. Gough. One might also come into living contact with the philan- thropic work of the denomination as actually carried on. Three months after his ordination we find Theo- dore rejoicing in a visit from his father, and keeping him over "Anniversary Week." The plan involved a considerable amount of sight-seeing, and was carried 5 "Tennyson's Poems" appears as a purchase of June 17, and "Spur- geon's and Huntington's Sermons" under date September 8, 1856. FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 103 out with great satisfaction. Then there were con- certs and lectures, attended sometimes alone, some- time in company with Jenkins and other friends, with whom there are many exchanges and an active corre- spondence. On April 30 it is a lecture of Edward Everett's in Charlestown on "Washington." On May 31, immediately after the "Anniversaries" at which Jenkins had been one of the party, it is a meeting of the Abolitionists, addressed by Wendell Phillips. Munger reports on it to Jenkins in no uncertain terms : In the afternoon I went into the Melodeon to hear the Abohtionists — none of the moderate conservative order such as you and I, but the out and out disunionists. Garrison had introduced a resolution endorsing and praising Sumner. One of their number opposed it, condemning Sumner, and making a fool of himself. Then Wendell Phillips got up, and such a speech as he made! He spoke an hour. Per- fectly extemporaneous. Such sentences I believe Webster did not, nor could not utter. It was a defense of Sumner. I wish you could have heard it. After this we are not surprised to find an entry in the diary under date Tuesdaj^ November 4, 1856, "Voted for Fremont and Dayton." The letter to Noble of December 14, 1852, after deploring the death of Webster, confesses to "the political somer- 104 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER sault" of voting for the "Free-soil" candidates, Hale and Julian. He already "didn't like the Fugitive slave law," and "abominated the Janus-faced position of the Whig party." To be one of the "charter mem- bers" of the nascent "Republican" party was the next political step. Events were moving slowly, fatefully, during these four years from Februarj^ 1856, toward the tremendous crisis of the Civil War. Hunger was not insensible in his quiet Massachusetts parish to their ominous trend. It is interesting to compare his comment on the fate of John Brown and its effect on popular feeling with what we know of it as immortal- ized in one of the most stirring songs of the Civil War. The comment appears in a letter to jNIulford — then abroad — under date December 13, 1859 : I wonder if you Americans abroad have caught the full meaning of this John Brown movement. No single event, probably, within the generation has so deeply moved the peo- ple North and South. Never was there such danger of dis- union. Virginia is frightened next to death. It took 5,000 soldiers to hang John Brown ; and they say liis spirit walks abroad over all the land. But it was splendid to watch that old man day by day as the hour drew near, and see him finally step out of the world in that grand way in which only a martyr can. For, wrong and foolish though he was, he had all the moral and mental qualities of a martj-r and a FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 105 hero. He did nothing for effect; but every word, every letter, every act, had its effect. A part at the North are glorifying him, and a part are saving the Union. The South can scarcely be kept from cutting loose us poor northerners and letting us drop into perdition. Visits to Boston and correspondence with college friends were not the only means whereby the village minister's relations with the larger world were kept up and extended. A friendship was begun very soon after his installation which was destined to prove of utmost value. In the diary for 1856, during the month of February, we find the entry, "Went in the evening to Mrs. Baker's to hear a parlor lectin-e from Professor Gajani on the Siege of Rome." Mrs. Eleanor J. W. Baker was the widow of Mr. Walter Baker, whose business as a manufacturer of chocolate in Dorchester had brought him an ample fortune. Material prosperity, however, proved itself as ever an insecure basis for happiness. Not long before the coming of Theodore Munger to the Village Church, Mrs. Baker found herself in middle life alone in her great mansion, a widow and childless. Within a very brief period she had been bereft of her hus- band, the last of her four children, and a younger brother, her last remaining near relative and an inmate of her home. The effect of this affliction on a 106 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER woman of strong will, but of the devout type of Puri- tan piety which clearly sees in each event of life the ruling hand of God, was such as Scripture sets before us as intended by "the chastening of the Lord." Her life and the fortune she inherited were completely devoted to good works — not passively admitted, but ardently and wisely engaged in. Hunger himself bears this witness: Never have I known a person do good more wisely. Never have I known a person put so much of self into works of ministration. Every act was charged with personal quality and force. A great part of her service and giving involved self-denial in the form of time, strength, patience and remem- brance ; consequently her ministrations were fruitful in moral results. Never have I known a person who served others so much at first hand, doing things herself rather than through intermediate agents. She gave away large sums of money, but if time, strength, thought and interest can be compared with money, they outnumber it manifold. But her strong point lay in getting others to help themselves — putting them in the way of it, opening paths, providing means, tiding them over hard places. . . . Her life as a woman of the world was almost as broad as that of her benevolences. Indeed the two ran along side by side and mingled. For thirty years the hospi- tality of her home was scarcely limited except by its capac- FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 107 ity. How various, how brilliant, from how many regions and stations of life, of how many callings, of how many sects, of how many countries and races, were her guests ! No pains were taken to seek out visitors. There was no running after foreigners or persons of distinction. True social laws governed the whole matter. The hospitality was as beauti- ful as it was abundant — unconventional yet high in tone, and full of keen, womanly consideration. ... It turned increasingly to the definite purpose of ministering to the weary and worn and "broken-down" — teachers, missionaries, overworked women, or those who might need shelter for a time. . . . Her friendships were with all sorts of people — with the Gumeys and Buxtons and the Aberdeen family in Great Britain, with rich and poor at home, and literally with all sorts and conditions of men. It seems to have been the direc- tion taken by her life under the pressure of her sorrows. Suffering brought with it an intense sympathy and love of humanity, even as our Lord became "perfect through suffering."^ Friendship with such a woman, increasing in inti- macy and mutual helpfulness, opened to the young minister of Dorchester Lower Mills an almost limit- less vista of effective philanthropic service, and in connection with it a relation no less wide to move- 6 "Funeral Address," by Rev. T. T. Hunger, D.D., January 17, 1891, Boston, 1895. 108 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER ments of thought and culture. It ultimately led to his becoming an inmate of Mrs. Baker's home. After JSIunger had spent some two years in bache- lor's quarters at one boarding place after another, none of them affording any approximation to the home surroundings of comfort to which he had been accustomed, Mrs. Baker took the course which every consideration of mutual helpfulness suggested. Munger was invited, until other arrangements should be made, more satisfactory to himself, to be her guest. The arrangement proved of such mutual advantage that it became permanent. For the next four years Munger became an inmate of ^Irs. Baker's home, and while he thus received much, he rendered unwearying and able service. For the third time our New England minister was to experience in their choicest and richest form all those immeasurable blessings of body and soul that are contained in the w^ords "home" and "mother." And like the gifts of God they are poured out without limit and without price. What he could he gave in return: to his own mother many years of tenderest affection and considerable material support; to his Aunt Gertrude, in the sadder, declining years of her life, bereft of husband^ and fortune, he showed that 7 David Selden died in New York City, February 23, 1861. FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 109 the sympathy and friendship which had made her hospitahty in New Haven an enlargement of Hfe to him were not one-sided. By letters and such infre- quent visits as he could make, until her death at Brandon, Vt., in 1875, he proved that he could give as well as receive in matters of the inward life. To Mrs. Baker he gave not only intellectual and moral sympathy, but in the practical matters of domestic business, wherein a woman peculiarly feels the need of a man's assistance, Munger found abundant opportunity to render service. Since the influence of good women does not always receive the credit it deserves as a factor in the lives of men, we may perhaps be permitted, at this point, a brief retrospect of these relations from Dr. Hunger's eldest daughter: My father's early life seems to me to have been singularly fortunate in the influences which surrounded it and in the social and intellectual training he received. This is specially noticeable when one thinks of the women with whom he was thrown during the formative period. His mother, for whom he felt a deep and worshipful love, was the daughter of a Hue of New England ministers and grew up in a country parson- age where hard work, frugality and refinement surrounded her from the first. She was educated in what was in those days the best girls' school in New Haven. Her family did 110 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER not at first look with favor on her marrving an obscure young doctor, or her going with him into the semi-frontier life of Central New York, but his sterling quahties soon overcame that feeling. The thrift she had learned in the parsonage stood her in good stead in the years that fol- lowed. They were years of hard work and of self-denial but the standards of gentle living were never lowered. As an example, the boys were never allowed to go to Homer village in working clothes, the suits must be donned. There were books and newspapers in the home and a father who read and thought much on great subjects, and a mother who was guided solely by love and duty. When the boy Theodore came to Yale at the age of seven- teen, he became a member of his uncle's family. His Aunt Gertrude Richards Selden was a very strong influence in those college days. She was the daughter of a well-to-do New York family, accustomed from the first to social life. For many years her husband was the English representative of a large cotton firm and in their residence in England they came in contact with much that was attractive in Eng- lish life. On their return to America — because they wanted their boys to grow up Americans — they took a large house in New Haven where they lived with the stately simplicity of the middle of the century. Here my father was intro- duced to the social world, but it was by a woman in whom religion and thought dominated all else. She was a brilliant talker, a keen thinker whose taste ran rather to theology FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 111 and philosophy than to poetry or fiction, a brave and strong nature, as was shown later when reverses came to her, and a woman who took her full share in trying to alleviate suffer- ing wherever she found it. She did her duty and lived her life well in the station in wliich she was placed, and she had the great gift of stimulating other minds. Between her and my father a very warm love sprang up. I have often heard him say — modestly — that the intellectual sympathy she found in him was a comfort and joy to her, but he also felt that his obligation to her was very great. The years in that home gave the village boy a knowledge of social forms and customs which stood him in good stead afterwards, to say nothing of the deeper influences which helped to mould his character. The friendship with Mrs. Walter Baker was another influ- ence which affected in many ways his after life. His letters to her are full of gratitude and of plans for her comfort and pleasure. In her home he came in touch with a rich and varied social life, and, I fancy, learaed much of the ease of approach to others which characterized his life in later years. And the things which were talked of in that home were as broad as the world itself. There was, however, no theology. That side of his mind was stimulated in other ways. The stimulus referred to was partly that of friends of both sexes with whom Hunger was brought in contact in Mrs. Baker's home. Among the older women whom he met here should be mentioned par- 112 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER ticularly Miss Haines, head of what was then the leading girls' school in New York, and Miss Cum- mins, the novelist of "Lamplighter" fame, who dis- cussed her literary work with him. JNIiss Haines's keen interest in English theologians, such as Maurice and Robertson and Thomas Arnold, led her to give him books by these authors, and these in turn became a powerful factor in his development. Of Robertson's influence we shall have more to say here- after. Maurice and Jowett are referred to in his correspondence as a great aid to liis studies. The books he has specially in use are Maurice's "Unity of the New Testament" and his volume on "John." These were presented by Miss Haines. He also prized Jowett's conmientaries on Romans and Thes- salonians. Jowett's "Essays" he considers "among the finest theological essays I have ever read." A record of the four years of faithful ministerial service at Dorchester would offer but little to break the monoton3\ Their visible results in the form of additions to church membership were small, doubtless because of Munger's distaste for revivalistic methods such as keep ever in view the credit balance of a definite number of "conversions." His father's warn- ings to count ministerial success in terms of fidehty, and not to forget the invisible effects of earnest FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 113 preaching and faithful parish work, were almost pro- phetic. Congregations increased in numbers and interest, particularly in the attendance of young men at the evening service. Better relations were estab- lished between the rival sects. Even the barriers of exclusive orthodoxy were broken down through Hunger's influence to the extent of joining with the Unitarian church in Thanksgiving Day services. Still, do what he would to counteract the physical separation from his flock occasioned by his residence at some distance from the village, and that more subtle separation which is produced by difference in field of thought and interest, and difference in social opportunity, the minister could not but become aware that his mental and social outlook was more and more divergent from that of his flock. His world of reli- gious ideas was growing and expanding. Theirs, while by no means stationary, was limited and slow- moving. He had reached the young minister's inevit- able period of "theological unrest." From the necessities of their isolated situation, the theologians of New England have ever given chief attention to that division of their subject which is technically termed "soteriology" or the doctrine of salvation. It is concerned with the phenomena of the religious consciousness, a field of study which the 114 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER philosopher designates the "psychology of religious experience," but which furnishes the basis for the theologian's inferences as to the divine economy. The Calvinistic orthodoxy current until the middle of the nineteenth century was dominated by the writings of St. Paul — as indeed what school of Christian theol- ogy has not been? It took into consideration only one type of religious experience, that to which the great- est contributor to New England theologj^ of our own times has given the name the "experience of the twice-born."* It was the great service of Bushnell to lead over from this Edwardean Calvinism toward a doctrine of salvation based on a somewhat broader view of Christian experience. The revolutionary experience of the Apostle Paul cannot properly be taken as the norm, however enlightening as an excep- tional case. But Edwards and his successors of the New England school so took it. In concentrating their attention on the ever-unsolved problem of adjustment of finite wills, conscious both of free- agency and of unrighteousness, to the sovereign and righteous will of God, they only fell back the more exclusively upon the experiences of St. Paul. Bush- nell's revolutionary book, "Christian Nurture," was published in 1846. It had grown, however, out of an 8 W. James, "Varieties of Religious Experience," 1904, FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 115 article on "Revivals of Religion," published ten years earlier in The Christian Spectator. The very basis of revivalism, and in fact of the whole Calvinistic sys- tem, was the eternally lost condition of every free agent who has not consciously experienced the renew- ing grace of the Spirit. Bushnell's objection was that of a pastor whose actual experience belied this assumption. In thus becoming the champion of nature against an exaggerated supernaturalism, he attacked Calvinism at its weakest point, its exclu- sion of the unregenerate child. Calvinism said, in effect, to all the little ones: "Except ye be con- verted and become as those who are grown up ye effect, to all the little ones: "Except ye be con- trast of this with the sajdng of Jesus was too obvious. Even the more moderate type of Calvinism taught in the New Haven school could not satisfy the objec- tions of Bushnell. Taylor made free-agency a more real thing than Edwards, and found a way to vindi- cate the "Sovereignty of God" without the horrors of predestination to eternal damnation. But as may be inferred from the extracts made from Hunger's cor- respondence at a time when most under the influence of this New Haven teaching, it was far from repudi- ating revivalism. We only recognize in the advice to 116 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER his brother the instinctive apprehension of the abuses that all too widely prevailed. No better exposition can be found of the effect of Bushnell's work in the period from 1836 to 1858, the date of "Nature and the Supernatural," than Dr. Hunger's own in his "Life of Bushnell."^ His career from earliest boyhood to the closing years of his first pastorate had been such as to prepare his mind in preeminent degree to receive with profound appreciation the bold utterances of Bushnell, made with the insight and con^action of a prophet and the genius of a poet. They found him and stirred him to the depths. If we take as indications simply the titles of two later volumes, "The Appeal to Life" and "Character through Inspiration," it will be apparent how thoroughly his sj^mpathies were on the side of Bushnell as against the rigid salvation doctrine of Calvinism. If we may judge by coincidence of dates it was not so much Bushnell's wider view of the human soul in its relation to God which contributed to Munger's "theological restlessness" in 1859-1860, as "Nature and the Supernatural," wherein the champion of reality against dogma extends his protest to the external world. Bushnell had little or no acquaint- 9 "Horace Bushnell, Preacher and Theologian," 1899, chapters V-XIII. FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 117 ance with the new movement of hterary and historical criticism which was beginning to be apphed in Ger- many to Scripture narrative, but he had a profound appreciation of Schleiermacher and Coleridge. He sympathized with that grand conception of the Reign of Law which owes so much to the great English scientists and thinkers of the Victorian period. The line between natural and supernatural Bushnell found to be as arbitrary in outward as in inward experience. He made little or no attempt to dis- tinguish between the eternal religious values of the biblical record and their more or less legendary form, and left to others the application to them of the general rules affecting the transmission of testimony. Assuming the full historicity of the record, he sought (in his own language) "to find a legitimate place for the supernatural in the system of God, and show it as a necessary part of the divine system itself." In other words his "higher unity" was found by super- imposition of the two domains. Every natural event is supernatural in the last analysis, and every super- natural event is natural, once we perceive the law of its working. "The world was made to include Chris- tianity," so that we have only to raise sufficiently our point of view to see all apparent contradictions disappear. There is no contravening of law, but only 118 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER the gearing in at appropriate times of higher and still higher systems of law. Bushnell was not the only religious thinker whose works at this time took vigorous hold on the young preacher's mind. The sermons of F. W. Robertson, which appeared almost coincidently with Bushnell's "Xature and the Supernatural," and which were called to his attention by INIiss Haines, marked almost an epoch in his life. Robertson's six principles of teaching^" were adopted by him as the soundest and wisest for a preacher to follow. At the commemora- tion of his ordination at New Haven in 1906, Dr. Munger referred to their effect upon his own minis- terial career in the following terms : I can only speak of it as providential. I had immediately broken away from the already yielding theology, and the question was — Wliat should I preach? This volume of Robertson met the need of vast numbers of the people; and it met mine with such a fulness that I have never since felt a doubt over what I should think, or what I should preach. If I were asked today what is the most important thing in theology for a preacher, young or old to know, I would answer: "The six principles of Robertson's thought." From that day to this preaching has been a constant joy. Not 10 "Life of F. W. Robertson," vol. II, p. 160. rmST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 119 that Robertson told me what to saj, but how to know under what principles of thought to express myself. Those who recall the "Life of Robertson" will remember that his six principles of teaching were these : First, the establishment of positive truth, instead of the negative destruction of error. Secondly, that truth is made up of two opposite propositions, and not found in a via media between the two. Thirdly, that spiritual truth is dis- cerned by the spirit, instead of intellectually in propositions ; and, therefore, truth should be taught suggestively, not dogmatically. Fourthly, that belief in the human character of Christ's humanity must be antecedent to belief in his divine origin. Fifthly, that Christianity, as its teachers should, works from the inward to the outward, and not vice versa. Sixthly, the soul of goodness in things evil. Besides Bushnell and Robertson there was one more great religious leader of the times whose influ- ence was exerted on Munger, both directly through his works and indirectly through contact with Mul- ford, whose friendship had now become one of the most potent factors in his life. This was Frederick Denison Maurice, the leader of the Broad-church party in the Church of England. We can well under- stand that Bushnell and Robertson should have con- 120 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER tribiited to tliat "theological restlessness" which, as Munger states, led to his resignation from Dorches- ter, happy and peaceful as all his relations with the parish had been. They increased his natural lack of "sympath}^ for the orthodoxy of the region"; but we need something more to explain why he "conceived the idea of fleeing from it into the Episcopal church." The explanation is laid open before us at full length in his correspondence with Carpenter and jNIulford, the former of whom at this time was profoundly affected by the mysticism of Swedenborg; the latter, following certain inborn tendencies, had definitely abandoned his training for the Congregational min- istry and taken orders in the Episcopal church. He was now in Europe, where Munger, on his earnest solicitation, had secured for him, through mutual friends, a letter of introduction to JNIaurice. The letter to ^lulford, from which we have already quoted the reference to the fate of John Brown, indicates clearly the approach of Hunger's mind to the step which the letter to Carpenter announces as already decided upon — resignation from the Dorchester parish in order to be free to take the course JNIulford had already taken. The Broad-church movement was proving its attraction to many leading minds. Others besides Mulford and Munger had been pro- FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 121 foundly affected by the writings of Robertson and Maurice and, believing that current tendencies in the Puritan churches were unfavorable to continuity of development and breadth of fellowship, were taking orders in the Episcopal ministry. Munger was keenlj^ alive to the perils of denominationalism, and responded warmly to the plea of "continuity and catholicity"; but he was also aware of the existence of other tendencies than those of the Broad-church- men, tendencies inconsistent with these and which ultimately prevailed over them. The purpose for which he resigned his Dorchester parish remained unfulfilled, even after several years of unattached ministry. In his class record for 1891 this is ex- plained by saying merely, "I found I had too much Puritan blood in my veins." The folloAving extract from the letter to Mulford shows the feeling of its writer toward the type of Anglicanism which had caused the expulsion of the Puritans in the first place, and recently, in the Tractarian Movement, had imposed upon the doctrine of Apostolic Succession a sense which would make acceptance of Anglican orders ipso facto a repudiation of all others. Even those of continental and Scotch divines, which great fathers of Anglicanism such as "the judicious Hooker" had freely recognized, were by the Trac- 122 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER tarians for the first time pronounced invalid and worthless. Like many another minister of the period, Munger waited to see whether the Broad-church interpretation of apostolic succession was to prevail; whether there would be recognition of the sacred office into which he had but latelj^ been inducted by- imposition of holj^ hands in a lofty spiritual succes- sion, with solemn invocation of the Spirit ; or whether a tacit repudiation of these would be exacted as a con- dition of receiving the "valid" orders of a dubious hierarchical pedigree. The letter which reflects this wavering of the men- tal balance in Munger's case was written in Decem- ber, 1859, in reply to one from Mulford, which had spoken of his "continued approval of the step taken in becoming an Episcopalian." Munger congratu- lates his friend on having found permanent rest for his soul, and church relations in which he "can labor cheerfully and earnestly for his Master." He fully appreciates the sense of being "vitally connected with the Master's church." After this expression of sympathy, Munger continues: You speak of the reasons influencing you ; of Episcopacy as meeting the demands of the age and the country, of its being the true organic expression of the organic life which makes up Christianity, and of its constructive power. My FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 123 friend, I think constantly of these things. Every reflecting Christian man not utterly bound and given over to his sect or creed must think of them. Not always because we see, or think we see, what we need and lack in Episcopacy, but because we are driven to think of them by our own exigencies. Our wise and prudent ( .?) men shake their heads and talk about fickleness and lack of sincerity when such men as Dr. Bellows and Osgood and Coolidge and Huntington Hft their voices and proclaim the need of something different to meet the wants of the age. But to me these very men, because they have sensitive and discerning minds, and just because they are free and uncommitted, are they who know best how to discern the times. The loose, not the anchored boat shows which way the tide turns. . . . I cannot deny — I do not wish to — that these voices declare what many of us feel — the want of a fuller and more perfect expression of Christianity as an organized power in the world. Dr. B. truly speaks of Congregationahsm as "thin and ghostly." We cluster about great preachers, and call great audiences strong churches. But when the power of a church is measured by the mental calibre of a preacher, or the pleasurableness of his tones, where and what is the church? One cannot help asking what is to become of the immense power of such a man as Beecher. He is doing wondrous things for individuals but scarcely anything for the lasting church of Christ. If his energy and power could be caught 124 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER up by some organic body and perpetuated it would seem to me more in accordance with the genius of Christianity. Another feature of Congregationalism troubles me greatly. As soon as the spiritual interest and life are reduced below a certain point they begin to quarrel. And the system is a mere lash with wliich they scourge each other. It is so loose, so little defined, so dependent on a good and generous spirit, that in the hands of bad men it is nothing but a matter of perplexity and strife. . . . These are things which sadden and trouble me, and make me ask, Is the system radically defective.'* That theologically we are narrow and bigoted I cannot deny, but time may remedy that. And that our mode of worship is meagre and cold, and not in accordance with man's worshiping necessities there is little doubt, but time and change may also remedy these. Whether it will ever so change as to become truly a church — a church above all individuals, and all years, and all vicissitudes; or whether it must at last take refuge under the wings of the Church of Apostolic succession, is a question too great for me — yes, too great for me to decide in respect to myself. We each believe in being called. The voice vnW speak in its own good time — perhaps never; yet not speaking it will be a positive command to remain where I am. I think I feel the same drawings towards Episcopacy to which you yielded. I like the supreme importance attached to the Church. I hke the mode of worship. The govern- ment is well enough when there is a Christian spirit in its FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 125 administration. I like the catholicity — when it can be found, which is not always. I like the spirit of the Broad-Church Party, which I conceive to be made up of two ideas, viz., cathoKcity, or comprehensiveness, united with the idea of the Church of the Son of God. I specially hke the attitude of the Church towards a man who is willing to pray, but is not willing to be converted Calvinistically. And more I like; but some things I do not like. I fear the Athanasian Creed would stick in my throat. I don't like Pharisaism, and I think Episcopacy has more than its share of it. I don't like Mr. Cream Cheese and his one thousand (of the 28,000) English brethren — otherwise called Tractarians. I don't like the "High and dry" Churchmen, nor the "Low and slow" Churchmen; but they make up a large proportion of the clergy. I think their weaknesses are peculiarly weak, and their faults serious and fundamental. Yet there are things to be endured in any denomination. Perhaps I may see the entire subject in a different light. So the curtain falls upon our young minister's intellectual world, to lift again when the decision to resign his parish has been reached, and he writes, in July, 1860, to Carpenter, anticipating pained surprise on the part of many of his friends, but counting on "the sympathy and kindness of my truest friends, and the consciousness that I am doing right," when the step shall have been taken. He still recognizes 126 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER "obnoxious features in the Church and in church- people," but episcopacy increasingly impresses him by "its wisdom and fitness for its work." As to its being unwieldy, or tending to formalism I see nothing of the kind in the system. I am more than ever convinced that it is the truest embodiment and expression of Christianity, and that it is, taking generations together, the most effective system to work with. It is in this hght (as a working instrument) I have chiefly looked at it. I have not approached Episcopacy as Mulford approached it, by strong sympathy with a great and commanding mind, but I have been driven to it as a working man. . . . If I felt strong enough to resist all denominational influences, I do not know but I might remain where I am and strive to conduct a church after my own ideas ; but / am not strong enough, nor do I beUeve any man is strong enough to resist the influences of his sect. Besides, a few years would undo the work. I may not be able to do much work or great work, but what little I may accomplish I want to last. I want to fund it — to lay it up in an enduring body, to go toward building up that Church which has endured 1,800 years and will outlast all divisions and corruptions. The letter closes with an outline of plans, which include resignation about the middle of September. Carpenter is urged to visit Dorchester to paint INIrs. Baker's portrait, as had been arranged, and to come FIRST YEARS IN THE MINISTRY 127 if possible by September 22, when "Mr. Huntington" is to be ordained. To the church Munger offers two reasons for resig- nation : ( 1 ) He has encountered obstacles to efficient pastoral work in consequence of having no home of his own and residing at a distance from the parish. (2) Larger knowledge of himself and his work has made him feel the need of an interval of rest for pur- poses of study "and the reconsideration of important questions." In a letter to Mulford, written the same week, Munger gives full explanation of the motives which for more than six months have been gradually impelling him to take the step. He repeats at greater length the appreciation of the values of episcopacy "as a working system," its "wisdom," its adaptation to the work to be done in "expressing Christianity." Nevertheless he remains uncommitted, and deter- mined in spite of his resignation to "keep the decision (of orders) yet in the distance, that I may examine, reflect, and be acted upon at greater length." The resignation is in order to be "as nearly as possible a free and untrammeled man." For there still remains the unsurmounted objection: the system, whose wis- dom and value so increasingly impress themselves upon him, is subject to such incredible perversion at the hands of men who "devote newspaper columns to 128 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER the pronunciation of A(h)men and orientization" or "put superciliousness in place of charity, and imagine stupidity to be repose and inaction peace." This, he admits, more than anything else, causes him to hesitate. While the best persons I know are Episcopalians, and the most efficient churches are Episcopal, still I think there was never a system so misunderstood, so abused and perverted by both high and low churchmen. So the interval of untrammeled freedom was obtained. Mrs. Baker's hospitable mansion remained his home. He had libertj^ to consider the question at leisure. He withdrew from his parish in the fullest expectation of following the example of Mulford, his most admired friend. But when the three additional years of consideration were over, certain unforeseen factors had entered in. New exigencies led our young New Englander to the discovery of "too much Puritan blood in his veins to admit of this step." He remained a Congregational minister. CHAPTER V WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 1861-1869 The council which formally dissolved the relation between Hunger and the Village Church of Dorches- ter held its session on October 23, 1860. Inwardly and outwardly the transition which it marked was from peace and quiet to war and confusion. There was no lack of opportunity for preaching. In November an invitation was received from Nan- tucket to supply for the whole winter. This was declined; but engagements for individual Sundays were filled in many of the larger towns adjacent to Boston, and these extended throughout the year 1861, Munger's services as a preacher being increasingly in demand, while his home continued to be at Dor- chester with Mrs. Walter Baker. Such conditions removed all worry over his personal finances, and so long as his mind was not fully made up as to the field in which his ministry should be continued, they fur- nished the best solution of the most pressing prob- 130 THEODORE THORNTON IVIUNGER lems. But they could not be acquiesced in as per- manent. A letter to Mulford, dated January 10, 1862, shows that the matter of denominational relations is still under consideration. The writer does not "give up my dream of returning to New York and finding a church in its vicinity ... a quiet place to work in, where I can slowly train myself in the direction of my excellence, if I have any." But conditions were unex- pectedly favorable to deliberation in judgment. The literary excellence of Hunger's sermons and his power as a preacher were bringing a superabundance of invitations. He had (when writing) preached six Sundaj^s in Boston, and two at the suburb, Jamaica Plain. Opportunities of the kind, unfailing thus far, were still on the increase. Moreover he was not yet sure of the harness in which he would work. The Congregational harness chafed by reason of the reactionary Calvinistic orthodox}^ especially preva- lent in the Trinitarian churches near the seat of the Unitarian movement. Hunger, however, had the foresight to realize that this was a temporary phase. The baldness of the ritual and lack of taste in its worship, as sometimes conducted, repelled him. But this, too, he knew was curable. The real secret of his attraction to episcopacy as interpreted by the Broad- WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 131 churchmen was its emphasis upon continuity and catholicity. He wished to be in closer relation to the church of all Christians in all ages. This, however, was not episcopacy as universally understood. "Could I trust in any organization," he exclaims to Mul- ford, "as you trust in Episcopacy, I should have great heart for going ahead. . . . More than ever do I find peace in believing in Christ, and more than ever do I believe in a church visible, but through some miserable obliquity of vision I cannot see it. What I like most in one is offset by some thing that I as much dislike." As regards Unitarianism, on the other hand, such drawings as the young liberal had felt were rapidly losing their hold. "I feel more than ever," he writes, "the terrible lack in that denomination. There is a great gulf between them and us. I feel too that as religionists they are superficial compared with Trinitarians. Their scheme of religion is not profound, does not reach to the hmits of man's nature ; and if our faith is not greater than we, what is it good for?" So he still hesitates. Other causes than pure reflec- tion and comparison were to bring the decision. While Hunger's personal question of denomina- tional relations was still unsettled, public affairs had 132 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER reached a crisis that kindled every patriotic heart to a flame of devotion. In 1861 the Civil War broke out, and during these years without a settled pastor- ate jNIunger was burning to enlist, as both his younger brothers, Hezekiah and Edward, had done. But he was now his widowed mother's main reliance. No other of her sons could help her financially, and her daughter, Cynthia, was almost equally dependent. Patriotic impulse could only give way under such circumstances to family duty. But JSIunger could and did "fire a shot from the pulpit as often as he had opportunity." So he wrote to his mother, adding: "It seemed the only natural and right thing to do." The churches, which in many cases had previously been non-committal, or opposed to the discussion of the volcanic question of slavery and its connected problems, after the attack upon Simiter, heard the ringing message with enthusiasm. During most of the year 1862 Hunger supplied the neighboring church at Jamaica Plain, and early in jNIarch, 1863, accepted an invitation to the pulpit of the Centre Church in Haverhill for a term of six months. From this time on we hear little of the attractions of epis- copacy. The following extract from a letter to INIrs. Baker, dated March 1, 1864, is hardly an exception, but throws an interesting reflected light : WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 133 If a man is disturbed ecclesiastically he may find rest in the Episcopal church ; if theologically he will not ; nor will he in any church. A church can not give a faith to any man who thinks. He must find rest in his own convictions. I prize the Episcopal church only as furnishing, in some respects, a good working standpoint. It cannot set at rest speculative doubts. The kind of work to be done called forth all that is best in the democratic type of church organization. Minister and people engaged together in a service felt to be the cause of God, and Munger, at hand-grips with the problem of welding into a working whole a congregation weakened by the defection of sup- porters no longer in sympathy with the common aim, forgot his anxiety over the permanence of the church- builder's work. In spite of strong antislavery resolutions entered on its records in 1841, the church in Haverhill had been known of late as not quite loyal. Its wealthier members and supporters were opposed to "politics in the pulpit." Personal religion of the revivalistic tj^pe had been the joy and success of its retiring pastor, a man of deep piety, but saturated and satisfied with the theology of Edwards. This had left but little room for the social and moral issues of the present day, and when the war broke out it found an element 134 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER in the church little prepared to "resist unto blood" or even to "take joyfully the spoiling of their goods." Silence and compromise had seemed to the smaller and wealthier element the most fitting attributes of pulpit utterance in days of crisis, and their pastor, already for more than two years in the tightening grasp of fatal disease, could do little in the way of aggressive leadership. Under such conditions the morale of the church had suffered. A few individuals of the type described had been its principal financial dependence. The majority were loj^al people, measuring up to the high average standard of Xew England culture and intelligence, but with very little of wealth or social rank. Knowing what we do of the new pastor's sentiments it is no surprise to learn that under his preaching the two elements in the church drew rapidly apart. "Not peace but a sword" was the message. The well-to-do members made their opposition felt at first only indirectly. Hither- to their influence had been controlling. It was quietly turned now toward a termination, at the end of the prescribed term, of the new relation, which from their point of view had proved so unwise an experiment. It proved unexpectedly impotent. The six months' period was extended to ten months. At its WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 135 end a call was extended on the single basis of loyalty to the country, and accepted on that basis. "The rich men and their retainers," writes Dr. Munger, "with- drew from the congregation, leaving it poor in money but rich in patriotism. I regard that episode as the best part of my ministry." The sermons of this war ministry remain to prove that it was no superficial rhetoric, no demagogic ora- tory that saved the local church and stiffened patri- otic fibre for the salvation of the nation. That of Fast Day, in April, 1861, on the text, "And he that hath no sword, let him sell his garment and buy one," is almost prophetic in its warning of the magnitude of the crisis, and its prevision that the ultimate salva- tion of the Union is to come through eradication of the moral "root of bitterness," the curse of slavery. That of Fast Day, 1863, three months after the Emancipation Proclamation, takes Joseph's charge to the children of Israel (Gen. 1. 25, Ex. xiii. 19) as a type of faith in national destiny, and urges, on deep and cogent grounds, the duty of loyalty to the administration as agent of the national will. At the close it rises to a pitch of splendid eloquence as it predicts the future of the outcast word "abolitionist." It was a term that had made cowards of half the North, but was destined to transfiguration; even 136 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER such, says the preacher, as has come to those old-time terms of obloquy, contempt, and reproach, "Puritan" and "Nazarene." It was in the midst of this manful fight, and while its issues in the local church were still undecided, that love came to shed a new and softer radiance over the scene, and to demand in its own name, and for the sake of the home to be, the assumption of new respon- sibilities. Among the most honored citizens of Haverhill, a pillar of its Baptist church, for many years a member of the State Legislature and latterly repre- sentative of the district in the Federal Congress, a trustee of Brown University, of Newton Theo- logical Seminary, and of many other institutions, educational and philanthropic, was James Henry Duncan, a graduate of Harvard, a friend of A^Hiit- tier, an associate at the INIassachusettes Bar of lawyers such as Mason, Webster, Pickering, and Story. Mr. Duncan, who as one looked up to in all matters per- taining to the higher welfare of the town made it his duty to seek out newcomers of like interest, called at an early date on the new minister of the Centre Church. He found a congenial spirit. INIutual friendship sprang up and the younger man soon learned not only to value the older for liis wide knowl- WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 137 edge of men, his wise judgment, high principle, and liberal spirit, but to find delight also in the social relations of the Duncan home, with its large family of adult sons and daughters. It is in December, 1863, that he writes to his friend. Carpenter, to announce his engagement to one of the younger of the five daughters, Elizabeth Kinsman, a girl of twenty, thirteen years younger than himself, but, as experience soon proved, a helpmeet well worthy of his choice. The marriage, which took place on Octo- ber 12 of the following year, marked a new era in Munger's life. The homes which thus far had been so hospitably opened to him had furnished every com- fort, together with unusual social opportunity. He and his young bride must now create their own, with little more than the traditions of the past — building material like that of the "house not made with hands." Marriage to a young minister on a salary of $1,200, with the support of a widowed mother and sister largely dependent upon him, is a serious responsi- bility. It entailed a frugality of living very different from anything to which the bride had been accus- tomed; but her cheerful spirit and prudent economy proved equal to the task. The little income was stretched to get the utmost from it, and stretched 138 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER again and again as children came to add their portion of new cares, and their double portion of blessing. Two daughters, Rosanna INIay and Eleanor Duncan, were born in Haverhill. Like many another young and inexperienced girl, the minister's bride took up and solved the complex problem of building a home of comfort and refine- ment. Though the salary was small, the parsonage on Kent Street, Haverhill, entertained many guests, introducing them to a home of grace and beauty filled with the atmosphere of Christian culture and refine- ment. Its mistress proved herself also a conscien- tious minister's wife, and in spite of constant frailness of health accomplished many things in all lines of church activity. Throughout her married life her husband's work was given invariably the first con- sideration. Whatever could make it more successful, or improve the conditions for its accomplishment, was the paramount object in view. Her conscientious- ness and habit of tireless industry were a reenforce- ment and stimulus to his own, and in her loving com- panionship came new and more abundant experience of how man's life can be enriched by woman's love. This enrichment was not at the cost of preexisting ties. The old-time friendships continued and were strengthened. Jenkins was occupied during this WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 139 period with service in the region of Boston, but in 1864 was installed in Hartford. Mulford, since the outbreak of the war, had been in charge of a small parish in Orange, N. J. His friend writes of his work during this period : The Episcopal pulpit did not often speak plainly on the (political) questions involved, but Sunday after Sunday Mulford filled the little church with dissertations on the Nation, and lofty rebukes of the rebellion that would have graced the Senate chamber. I fear the shots flew wide over the wondering heads of the people. These sermons were the germs of the great book, "The Nation," which ten years later was to bring to its author world-wide tributes of honor and respect. Munger's judgment of the book is that "if there are intelligent critics and students of history in the coming centuries they will not fail to acknowledge that the profoundest conception of the nature of the Nation, and the first unfolding of it as a moral organism in this country was the work of Mulford as he watched the struggles of the country in its great conflict." Munger's own sermons during this period are a revelation of the closeness of his intercourse with his friend, and the revelation is confirmed by the correspondence. 140 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER The intercourse was promoted by the intimacy of both with Taft and Carpenter, whose residence in New York City afforded material hnks. Hunger's faithfulness in attendance at the meetings of the American Board was rewarded at the Springfield meeting in 1862 by meeting his old friend and class- mate, Henry H. Jessup, now about to be joined in his work at the college in Beirut by his brother, Sam- uel. William B. Clarke was another college friend with whom relations now became closer, as he passed from the station of assistant pastor to Dr. Hawes of Hartford into that of successor to Prof. George P. Fisher as pastor of the church in Yale College. A letter of Hunger's to his mother, dated October 17, 1863, refers to his own preaching in the College Chapel and attendance in company with President Woolsey, Prof. Timothy Dwight, and others at the installation service of his friend. This same year brought the beginning of personal acquaintance with one whose influence had deeply affected Hunger long years before through publications. A few weeks after the letter just quoted we find him writing again to his mother, reporting his preaching in Hartford, and describing with undisguised pleasure the pres- ence of Dr. Bushnell and his invitation to call. Need- less to say the invitation was accepted with alacrity. WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 141 "The Doctor was very entertaining, more so than anyone I ever conversed with. Indeed I never before had the opportunity of conversing with so great a man." Some counsel also, both kindly and judicious, had been offered and gratefully accepted. In a letter of thanks for the counsel, Munger enclosed a photo- graph of F. W. Robertson, and received in reply a letter from which we take the following extract: I wanted, on hearing you here so many times, to have some private conversation with you. I was much attracted by your sermons — more probably than any other of your hearers — which made me none the less regret a certain defect in your power of impression — not equal to the merit of your sermons. Are you not too nearly a Kterary gentleman in your habit — not enough an apostle? I believe most sin- cerely in a preaching inspiration, and then, of course, that as every preacher wants it, he should be in a condition to have it. As you settle into your new field may you be guided more and more consciously to yourself into the true centre and secret of endowment. Preaching is the grandest of all works when the apostolic ring and movement are in it. The closest of all the ties of this period were with the home in Central New York. His widowed mother and sister rely on him for direction in the manage- ment of the home and its meagre resources. To him 142 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER come the letters from the two sons in the army and those also from the frontiersman at IVIerton, Wis. From him go regular weekly letters to his mother, along with remittances for the payment of the rent and frequent gifts of money and useful articles. From him are despatched the letters and boxes to the soldiers; and he is the dependence of each and all in times of special need. On August 30, 1862, Edward, the first of the two to enlist, was shot in the neck in a fight with Texas rangers near Helena, Ark. Half his company were killed or wounded in the engage- ment. Theodore writes him in Overton Hospital, Memphis, and applies to Generals Grant and Sher- man for a furlough. Edward, after recovery in hospital at Memphis, secured his discharge, but reenlisted in September, 1863, joining his brother, Hezekiah, who had enlisted early in June. The two continued in service at Port Hudson, La., till near the end of the war. The relations with Mrs. Baker also, and her large circle of friends, remained almost as close as ever, in spite of distance and interruptions on both sides. For Mrs. Baker had devoted herself of late with characteristic energy to the needs of wounded sol- diers. Munger continued nevertheless her frequent visitor, helpful caretaker, and constant correspon- WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 143 dent. The hospitable mansion in Dorchester stands open to him and his wife, a quasi-parental home even after the establishment of his own in Haverhill. From our knowledge of the habits formed in the Dorchester pastorate it would be an easy inference that the parish in Haverhill was by no means neg- lected. The very first undertaking after the installa- tion, on January 6, 1864, was a systematic visitation of the one hundred and sixty homes represented in the church, not as a mere matter of developing the acquaintances already begun, but with full apprecia- tion that the permanent fruits of a really useful min- istry must be found chiefly in the homes. JNIunger, as we know, was deeply concerned for permanent results, and the letters of appreciation and gratitude from many parishioners attest the abiding influence not of his preaching only, but even more of his per- sonal and private intercourse with his people. The letters were doubtless preserved as a precious witness that his labors were not in vain in the Lord, and their tribute is eloquent. Congregations continued to increase and the church prospered, though the mem- bership roll, as before at Dorchester, exhibited none of those sudden inflations which mark the tidal waves of revival, whether revival of the type which justly bears the name, or that which is wont to be worked 144 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER up in more or less factitious imitation of true move- ments of the Spirit of God. Of the latter type rather than the former was the revivalistic work of the Rev. JNIr. H , ^Wdely advertised as the "child evangelist." This "trade name," if we maj^ call it so, was not meant to indicate the humble spirit of the revivalist himself, as thus qualified to enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the special objects of his emotional appeals. Mr. H made a specialty of working on the feelings of children. One is not surprised to read a frank expression of opinion regarding the bringing of this man to Haverhill in Hunger's letters to his mother. In February, 1864, he writes as follows : You will see in The Observer of this week an account of the revival in Haverhill. It was written by Mr. S. of the North Church. There have been a great many meetings and a great deal of excitement, but discerning people fail to see the revival. Not much good and a great deal of evil has been done. Mr. S. got H. here and is determined to carry it through. I have attended to my own church and let the whole thing go by, and I think I have done wisely. The newspaper accounts of revivals I shall hereafter reo^ard as not very trustworthy. On April 2 he makes further reference to the same unwholesome movement: WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 145 The revival was a sham. The newspaper accounts were utterly false. There are no fruits worth speaking of, and it has left the ground harder for us ministers to work upon. Don't believe anything you read about H. He gets it all written just as he sees it. The sensible people here all stood outside of his operations. Experience of advertising methods and the work of the press agent have cooperated, one can see, with a long-standing, perhaps an inborn, distrust of the revivalistic conception of religious experience, to produce in Munger's mind a stronger reaction than ever before. Bushnell's "Christian Nurture" doubt- less had something to do with it, and Bushnell's influence was destined to make itself more and more strongly felt. Disagreement could not fail to come. As yet, however, Munger's church was in full sym- pathy with its pastor. "The congregations increase and are full. Some people have gone off, but more have come in" is his report in this same letter. Faithful parish work and persistent, systematic effort toward self-development in the composition and delivery of sermons make an uneventful record. The straining years of the war, full of bereavement and hardship for those at home, as of peril and suffering for those at the front, drew to their tragic close in the death of the martyr-president. 146 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER On Friday night, April 14, 1865, Plunger heard the news of the assassination, but could not believe it. Confirmation came on Saturday and the day was devoted to the preparation of a sermon on it, the significant subject chosen being "The Omnipo- tence of God." If there had been division hitherto in the North, advocates of disunion, "copper- heads," and lukewarmness of loyalty, the assassina- tion had a dramatic effect not contemplated by its theatrical perpetrator. It brought into sudden, vivid relief the real significance of the great four- years' crime against the commonwealth. If the spirit of old John Brown went marching on with the armies that wrought out emancipation in fire and blood, the spirit of Abraham Lincoln, the man who of all throughout our history best deserves the name of patriot, was set free by the assassin's bullet in order that it might prepare the way for reconstruction. Lincoln's patriotism distilled a sublime loyalty to the principles of free and democratic government, mingled with a magnanimity of "charity for all" over the tumult and chaos of the years which followed. "Universal sorrow and gloom" are the words by which Munger describes to his mother the condition of the public mind "here and everywhere." Strained as had been the resources of all, the few hours since WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 147 the news had been received sufficed for appropriate tokens of the church's grief. The pastor's sermon, finished at midnight, was preached on Sunday morn- ing. "The church," he writes, "was very heavily draped in black, unrelieved by white. I should think there must have been nearly a thousand yards (of material) used. ... I never saw such a sight as the congregation presented soon after I began — all, literally, were weeping." So the war ministry ended. A new ministry, a ministry of reconstruction, was to begin. On its secular side, in matters that concern the state, Munger's part, though not small, was to be mainly indirect. Mulford, the friend who of all others had closest intimacy with his intellectual life, was already brooding over the great book that five j^ears later gave voice to the spirit of Lincoln, and in the prepa- ration of this book, "The Nation," Hunger planned and toiled with his friend, hoping and believing greater things from it than the author himself. But Munger's own work was to be in "The Repubhc of God." He was keenly conscious of a work of recon- struction no less deeply needed by the Church than by the State, and thus far he had found no more than "the harness in which he must work." Episcopacy 148 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER had drawn him by its continuity and its catholicity (in the Broad-churchman's interpretation) ; Uni- tarianism had its attractions in its fearless intellectual freedom and its progressive democracy of govern- ment. Both of these were now left behind. The strenuous call of needed practical service had given him his destined place. His work must be in the church of his fathers, proving it to be the rightful heir of an apostolic continuitj^ and catholicity, a true Freedom of Faith. But this inheritance would need a loyal, vigilant vindication against the misinterpre- tation of narrowing tradition and short-sighted sectarianism. JNIeantime, it is the first requisite of stewards "that a man be found faithful." The minister's own intel- lectual and spiritual development must not encroach upon the service he is pledged to render to the church, however small, whose needs demand his pastoral care. Regrets for the inevitable sacrifice, regrets that still are not repinings, echo through a letter to the friend of his larger life, written after long interruption of their correspondence, under date November 7, 1865: My dear Mulford:. I think it better to put a bold face upon the matter, and to proceed as though I had not two unanswered letters from you in my drawer. . . . It is almost months since I have WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 149 written any letters save those required by business or family ties. But we have known each other too long and well to feel that any break of correspondence means a break of sympathy. . . . And what, outside of home-life, is like the vital sympathy of minds that are in the light? Not that they should believe alike (that were bondage), but that they have open eyes and hearing ears for the truth. Men are everything or nothing to me as friends, as they range under this distinction. You will not infer from this that I am off the track, or getting wild. I am preaching more earnestly, and I hope with purer intentions, than ever, and am more careful not to say anything that shall hinder men from receiving the simple gospel as it is in Christ Jesus ; but I do cherish and cling to men who give a deeper significa- tion to the gospel than that arbitrary one that prevails. And what a work Bushnell is doing in this respect! How finely he shows that the gospel has a meaning consonant with the deepest facts of our being. I was much interested in your correspondence with Dr. B. His book, if it has his old power, will bring on a great conflict. The close of the war leaves our thinkers at liberty for speculative work, and I think our restive New England mind is eager for it. The letter continues with a discussion of current movements of thought, praise of Matthew Arnold's literary criticism and commendation of "urbanity and charity" in literature, report of a lecture by Henry James on Carlyle, discussion of his essay in the Octo- 150 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER ber number of TJie North American on "Faith and Science" as showing a truth "that will prove a barrier to the materialism of science that is pouring over us as a flood." The men of science, as he thinks, have so far had it "all their own way, with nothing to op- pose except the dictum of ecclesiastics and the horror of all good people."^ James's book "Substance and Shadow," he has seen "carpingly reviewed by some Philistine of a critic in a weekly Religious Paper — those profound defenders of the faith in which the times abound." Similar discussions of current literature form the staple of the letters to Mulford, and the writer is manifestly not wholly outside the currents of living thought ; but he concludes regretfully : Do not think because I write about books that I am 1 Hunger's attitude toward the prevailing tendencies of thought pro- duced by the tlien recent advances in physical and biological science may be judged by a letter to Miss Haines, dated March 27, 1861, in which, after praising McCosh's volume on "Moral Government," he continues: "I especially like its way of looking at theological subjects from the scientific standpoint. This is not the day when positive dog- matic declarations of truth will be received. The peculiar forms of infidelity now prevalent must be and can be met on tlieir own ground. We must not give up Geology and Astronomy and Chemistry and Psy- chology to them and fall back upon Calvin and Augustine, but must prove that even in these fields which they claim to be their own, Chris- tianity is true. The best possible book that can be made for this age is one that is at the same time thoroughly Christian and thoroughly scientific." WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 151 reading at all. I am harder at work writing sermons than ever, which with a large parish consumes all my time. I have not even the comfort of knowing that I improve as a preacher, except that I possibly gain in directness, and ability to minister to such minds as I have before me.^ Home life takes up much of my thought and time. In it I find rest and comfort. On February 3 of the following year we get a further glimpse at his activity as a pastor in a letter to his mother: I am visiting the parish very vigorously. During this week I have made about twenty visits. I mean to get through by March if possible. I have assumed charge of my Sunday school. I know that it will add to my burdens, but I wish to make some changes and see if I cannot infuse some life into it. Will you ask C[ynthia] to ask Mr. Nichols if he has any good schedules of lessons for concerts. 2 Hunger was not conscious during this Haverhill pastorate of any other gain in sermon writing than the above. Nevertheless, the pains taken in this matter, according to the habit formed as his "wise father" had counseled, were not thrown away. A letter from Miss M. E. Dodge (Gail Hamilton) — no mean critic — shows their impression as literary products. Miss Dodge writes in July, 1868, acknowledging the loan of two sermons read by herself and sister. "We read aloud with pauses and repetitions, with additions and comments, I will not say improvements, but certainly enlargements. . . . With all that you said we saw, behind, the mass that you would have said. For comfort your first sermon is good, for culture the second is needed, and we want both." Hunger's method was the systematic accumulation of "notes" on a given topic enclosed in envelopes appropriately docketed and placed on file until wanted. 152 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER I hate to take the time to prepare any at present. I should like to have a good talk with liim about Sunday-school concerts. A long-desired opportunity of enlargement of mind and refreshment of spirit came unexpectedly in the summer of 1867, when the wear and tear of three 5"ears of devoted pastoral work were rewarded by three months of rest combined with recreation and travel. The months of July, August, and September were spent in Europe traveling as the guest of his friend and former parishioner, Henry L. Pierce of Milton, Mass., the manager of the Walter Baker & Co. Chocolate Works. Mr. Pierce's trip was made for the purpose of visiting the French World's Ex- position, where he expected to profit by the displays made by the French and Dutch chocolate makers. The three months of sight-seeing on the Continent were incidental. For ten years past a visit to Europe had been Munger's hope and dream. His letters to Mulford from Dorchester had dwelt on the delightful impossi- bility of sharing his friend's enjoyment of historic scenes, majestic architecture and romantic scenery, the art of world-famous galleries, and living inter- course with famous men of letters. ]\Iuch of the dream was now fulfilled, though the tour was too WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 153 rapid to allow much of that better part which is denied to those who are "cumbered with much serv- ing." To Mulford he reports the experience and its effects with a succinctness we cannot hope to rival : I am not a subject of seasickness, however great the provocation, but the sea lost a great deal of its fascination for me. In fact I have less respect for it than before. It is the unfinished, or undeveloped part of creation — without variety and hence limited in its suggestion. I agree with a character of Dr. McLeod's in "The Old Lieutenant." . . . "It is a nasty, angry, jumbled pairt of creation." . . . From Liverpool to Chester, and then three delightful days in the Lake country — Fumess Abbey, Coniston, Ambleside, Grasmere, and Keswick. I en j oyed nothing more while gone. I have the idea that the Lake country is the key to much of Wordsworth's poetry. Melrose, Edinboro', Rosslyn, Sterling were all of Scot- land I saw. And York was the only place we stopped at on the way to London. Ten days there, and we crossed the Channel by way of Newhaven and Dieppe, to pass through Rouen. Another eight days in Paris and we kept on to Lyons, where we spent Sunday ; then to Nice by rail, where we took a carriage and went over the Comiche road, a most satisfactory experience. It is the Alps and the sea in one. From Genoa to Leghorn by water, and thence by the new route to Rome along the Western Coast. ... I don't believe in St. Peter's as a church. Do you ? Two days in Florence ; 154 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER three in Venice, one in Milan, the excursions of Como, Lugano, and Maggiore, was all the time I could give to Italy. We crossed by the Simplon, went down the Rhone valley to Geneva ; were prevented from going to Chamounix, and so went without to Berne, thence to Interlaken, and so on, after the excursion of the Wengern Alp, to Lucerne, Rigi, bay of Uri, etc., and out by way of Basle. Strassburg, Baden-Baden, Heidelberg, followed in order. At Bingen we took steamer and went down the Rhine to Coblentz, whence, after the usual excursions, we kept on to Cologne, Aix la Chapelle and Brussels. At Cologne Mr. Pierce left me for Paris and I kept on through the Belgian cities, cross- ing at Ostend to Dover, visiting Canterbury on the way to London. In England I went to the Isle of Wight, Brighton, Oxford, and the Warwickshire region. You see what an immense journey it was for the time, as we left here June 18th and returned September 28th. I was busy every moment, reading and writing nights, and on my feet days. I took the acknowledged lines — the best course I fancy for the first time. I had no time to look closely, so that I returned with impressions rather than convictions. I am very anxious to go again, and carefully. The journey had been hurried indeed to the point of exhaustion, but the impressions were not super- ficial. Previous preparation had been too thorough for that. They served as a basis for lectures sub- sequently given with great acceptance, and ten years WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 155 later they were still fresh. An article contributed by Hunger to The Earnest Worker, a religious monthly of Cleveland, Ohio, in May, 1878, describes "A Sun- day in the Isle of Wight," spent just before his return. It begins : Three months of incessant travel upon the Continent had left me exhausted in body, and indifferent to farther sight- seeing. I had gazed upon piptures and churches and monu- ments until I had lost a sense of their reality, and they passed dream-like before my wearied eyes. Then follows the description of a visit to the coun- try church of Ventnor on the south shore, of the sweet rural scenes and simple-hearted country folk. The impression was a permanent one, deepened by a long familiarity with English poetry. But the service in the little church was a disillusionment. In all the worshipful surroundings there was offered but little to nourish the soul. The rector was not the rector of Addison or Goldsmith or George Herbert. Young, handsome, vigorous, with a cul- tured, scholarly, face, he looked as though he might have commanded an audience of thousands in London, but he hardly commanded the congregation of little St. L. In the evening the traveler visited the Independent Chapel, new, crude, tasteless. Here all externals seemed to offend the worshipful spirit. It was "such 156 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER a church as an inferior architect might build in a Western town, unmindful equally of cost or debt. Nevertheless he heard there "an excellent sermon in company with a large and wide-awake congrega- tion." His conclusion is one that shows the "Puritan blood" still dominant. I had seen many churches and shared in their worship — Chester, York, St. Roch, Strassburg, St. Peter's. These are fine in their way, packed full from crypt to vaulted roof with sanctity, magnificent in the sublimity of the ser^^ce they daily render ; but for helping my poor soul heavenward, give me a simple service in a simple church, clear utterance of plain truths, the prayer of contrite hearts, the hymn of devout spirits — worship free from the ancient formalism of Gerizim and the glory of Jerusalem, but rendered "in spirit and in truth." The traveler returned somewhat jaded physically, but with stores of spiritual refreshment for the active labors of his parish. A brief visit with his wife and little daughter to his mother's home in Homer inter- vened. The winter of 1867-1868 witnessed a revival in Homer for whose wholesomeness INIunger felt as much solicitude as for that in his own city of Haver- hill. To his brother Hezekiah he writes in January: I am glad if there is any real awakening of religious feel- ing in Homer. It was greatly needed. It has seemed to WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 157 me that religion had almost ceased to be a power and had degenerated into a mere form. I have felt that the young men belonging to the church in Homer were in a terrible position, utterly inactive and uninterested. ... I hope they may be brought to see the unutterably wrong position they have filled, and may find their way back to Christ and to a holy life. This last is the great thing — a pure, high- toned, conscientious, Christ-ruled life, keeping the body and its appetites under and thus rising into the conscious power of God. I believe these things as I never did before. There is but one thing in this world or the next that I fear, and that is sin. I believe a man must get the full mastery of himself — the upper hand of every sin and self-indulgence, or he can never be happy — never have peace in this world or the next. In the same spirit preaching and pastoral visita- tion were resumed in Haverhill. And his efforts were not restricted to the church and Sunday-school. As a member of three important committees, he took an active part in the formation of the local Young Men's Christian Association, one of the earlier branches of that now cosmopolitan institution. The joy in the birth of a second daughter early in 1868 was overcast by a great bereavement. On the night preceding Fast Day, April 2, a telegram sum- moned Theodore to the bedside of his mother. He 158 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER waited only long enough to fulfil his duty to the church on the next morning, then hastened to Homer, remaining by her side until the final parting, soon after noon of April 7. It was the breaking up of the home centre that hitherto had occupied so large a place in INIunger's life. His sister Cynthia, after her long widowhood, had recently married a Mr. Rogers of Alden, Iowa. Of the sons only Hezekiah remained in Homer. All were now married and settled, but the new homes were widely separated. Selden, having sold his farm in Merton, Wis., had settled in business in Chicago. Edward was conducting a tannery, ultimately be- coming established in Montrose, Pa. All met now at the scene of common bereavement; but the old home bond was broken. Our New England minister returned to his home feeling that a chapter in his life was closed. He had ministered in carnal things as well as things spiritual, but the spiritual things of his mother had more than repaid him, even during the later days of her age and infirmity. Henceforth this treasure was laid up in heaven. But the ministry in Haverhill was drawing rapidly near an inevitable end. The thoughtful element of the congregation were fully in sympathy with their WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 159 progressive minister, the plain people of the parish were devotedly attached to him. But an element remained uncomfortabty conscious that this minister was not of the conventional type. His attitude toward revivals had shown marked leanings toward the point of view of Bushnell. There were also fol- lowers of the theology of Edwards, and still others who, knowing nothing of Edwards' neo-Calvinistic theologj^ were wedded to the revivalistic methods which had developed from his doctrines of depravity and redemption. These felt vaguely suspicious that all was not well with the orthodoxy of a minister so critical of revivalism, so incautiously open to new thought. Bushnell himself was certainly not con- scious of speaking as a prophet of evolution. Yet the new forms of philosophic thought born of the evolution theory were in the atmosphere, and "Chris- tian Nurture" was but a forerunner of the coming conflict. Its conception of the soul as innately kin to God was irreconcilable with the catastrophic psy- chology of the revivalists and formed a sign of the times. Since the appearance of that epoch-making book in 1847, Bushnell had brought out successively "God in Christ" in 1849, "Christ in Theology" in 1851, "Sermons for the New Life" and "Nature and the Supernatural" in 1858, "Christ and His Salva- 160 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER tion" in 1864, "The Vicarious Sacrifice" in 1866, and finally "The Moral Uses of Dark Things" in 1868. The year last named was further signalized by an article from Bushnell in Putnam's Magazine on "Science and Religion." Manifestly Bushnell's native antipathy to the catastrophic theory of divine action — partial salvage bj^ the Creator out of a wrecked universe — was not confined to the sphere of personalit}^, the fate of the human soul. "Xature and the Supernatural" was a systematic attempt to obliterate the dividing line. In it Bushnell turned his back on Intervention and opened wide the door toward Immanence — obviously a "dangerous" man. And Bushnell was not only Munger's hero in the lists of current theological debate, but of late even his personal friend. And Munger himself, as we have seen, was not unconscious of the need of reconstruc- tion in the churches. In December, 1865, we find him writing to Mulf ord : There is no man to defend liberal ideas in theology who believes in Christ. At least I know of no one. Unitarianism is on one side. Infidelity on the other. Between, there is no defender of Hberal theology, of modem Christian thought. In one denomination at least (Congregationalism) one must blow the trumpet of New England theology — sorry note — or keep silent. Who, except Unitarians and Episcopalians, has WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 161 criticised the Council? . . . And who is there, except Uni- tarians, to say a good word for the Life of Robertson ? They exult over his liberalism (as they term it), but give us nothing of his theology, scarcely anything of his animus. And who is there to say anything in defense of Dr. Bush- nell's new book ("Christ and His Salvation")? Unitarians will appropriate the negative side, but who will show, or say, that Dr. B. is orthodox and may have place in the true church? I already anticipate and hear the howl that will soon set in. . . . Whenever I think of this I think of you. And if The Independent will let you write upon these themes pray do, and perhaps the silent thoughts of many minds may at last find utterance. I can think of nothing so much needed as an organ for the expression of advanced, liberal, orthodox, Christian thought, something that has cut loose from the moorings of Plymouth Rock, and has at least as much respect for the nineteenth century as for the fifteenth or the second. I hope to live to see it. You hit the Council a hard yet just blow in the middle of the second column [of Mulford's recent article in The Independent^. Talk about imposing no yoke which Christ has not imposed — it is an absurdity. The very best Chris- tians in my congregation cannot come into the church because of a lumbering creed that only here and there by chance touches Christianity. This is a very, very weak spot in our church. We don't 162 THEODORE THORNTON IVIUNGER dare to throw overboard these old dogmatic creeds, yet every Hve man feels a secret dissatisfaction with them. They are not preaclied except in a feeble under-breath. They are kept in the background. New churches cut them down as much as possible; but no one dares to advise giving them up and substituting a confession of Christ, as you suggest, or a confession of the real Christian verities. / would look for a creed in St. Matthew v. and the Gospel of St. John. The reference to "the Council" and the use of "dogmatic creeds instead of confessions of Christ" has to do with the organization of the first so-called National Council of Congregationalists at Boston, and the adoption at Plymouth, June 23, 1865, of the "Declaration of Belief" at Burial Hill. In the chap- ter which follows we shall have more to say concern- ing the long effort of American Congregationalists in the period immediately succeeding the Civil War to secure the official adoption of an authoritative creed. The Boston Council marks its beginning. It marks also the vital distinction between a denomina- tional and a catholic creed. To be really "catholic" a creed must have universal assent. It must contain nothing unacceptable to any genuine Christian of any generation, name, or clime. In ancient phrase it must contain that which has been believed "always, everywhere, by all" {quod semper ^ quod uhique, quod WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 163 ab omnibus), and nothing else. Tacitly, if not explicitly, it will involve the "damnatory clause" in genuine Athanasian form: "Which faith except every one do keep whole and undefiled, without doubt he shall perish everlastingly." The difficulty in modern times of framing a catholic creed hardly needs explanation. The alternative is a creed representing the views of some portion less than the whole of the Christian Church. The personal creed of the individual is a vital feature of Congregationalism, and is normally the central and distinctive factor in its councils of ordination or installation. The ancient forms of admission to membership "on confession of faith" likewise assume that the candidate, so far as compe- tent, will declare his personal religious conviction, using set forms only so far as required by inexperi- ence. In such "creeds" the "damnatory clause" is of course wanting. The statement is presented "as a testimony," not to be judged apart from the life of the individual who offers it. The same is true of the "declarations" of larger groups. Any organization of Christians, a sodality, a school, a church, may express, if it desires, its "creed." But there must be no "damnatory clause," expressed or implied. The "creed" must be used "as 164 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER a testimony" only. If imposed "as a test" a wrong is done to catholicity. Christ is "divided" when under any title employing His Xame any who are His are excluded. The evil of the times since the Unitarian schism had been the formulation of local church creeds for use, not as testimonies, but as tests. The Boston Council, as described by Professor Walker in his "Creeds and Platforms of Congrega- tionalism," had grown out of "a stronger desire for some outward manifestation of Congregational brotherhood" for "the new epoch in national history." At its opening session in Boston, June 14, 1865, pre- sided over by Connecticut's noble "war governor," William A. Buckingham, a determined effort was made to secure the adoption of a creed committing Congregationalists in express terms to a "Calvin- istic" form of belief. However, the committee appointed to report on the expediency of a declara- tion had the good sense to declare that They could not regard it as their function to prepare a Confession of Faith to be imposed by act of this, or of any other body, upon the churches of the Congregational order. "It was the glory of our fathers, that they heartily professed the only rule of their religion, from the very first, to be the WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 165 holy Scriptures";^ and particular churches have always exercised their liberty in "confessions drawn up in their own forms."* The committee deemed it inexpedient "that the Council should disturb tliis 'variety in unity' — as Cotton Mather happily describes it," and therefore attempted only "to characterize in a comprehensive way the doctrines held in common by our churches." In harmony with the emphatic Declaration of the Congregational Churches of England and Wales, which "disallow the utility of Creeds and Articles of Religion as a bond of union, and protest against sub- scription to any human formularies as a term of communion," in harmony with the ancient New Eng- land symbols, they reiterated their "jealousy of sub- scription to Creeds and Articles, and their dis- approval of the imposition of any human standard."® The outcome was the adoption, at an adjourned session in Plymouth, on that Burial Hill where the Pilgrims had secretly laid away their dead in fear lest the savages should be provoked to attack by knowl- edge of their decimated numbers, of a creed which is not denominational, but explicitly and emphatically aims to be catholic. 3 Quoted from the preface of the "Saybrook Platform." 4 Quoted from Mather's "Magnalia." 5 Walker, ibid., p. 548. 166 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER The threatened polemic turned out an eirenicon. Reconstruction took the road of cathohcity without losing sight of its goal of continuity. Xevertheless, the denominational spirit remained. All the protests and preambles from the Cambridge Platform to the Burial Hill Declaration could not prevent some of the churches from using their creeds as tests rather than testimonies, nor prevent some Congregational- ists from longing after the denominational solidarity of the Presbyterians. It was this which gave ground for Hunger's complaint against the Council and the creeds which "live men refuse to preach" as a testi- mony because of secret dissatisfaction, j^et which were continually being used as a test, even to the exclusion of "the best Christians in the congrega- tion," to say nothing of the attempts to drive from the ministry (of the "denomination") men like Bush- nell and his followers. Hunger's strong sympathy with Bushnell appears again in February, 1868, when he writes discussing his theory of the Atonement, and adds: I am quite sure I know what helps me, and there I rest. I have been looking into Maurice's work on St. John of late. I have compared him at length with ThoKick, Olshausen, Alford and others, but I get more satisfaction and light from Maurice than from all the others together. He is the WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION 167 only author I know who understands the transitions in John, and can throw a bridge of reasoning across the great gulfs between the passages. And how great John's Gospel is as interpreted by him! Ministers of small churches who, in addition to family cares, parish duties, and frequent demands on their time and strength for municipal, social, and edu- cational affairs, can find time to read, to study, and to think to this extent, are quite naturally objects of suspicion to a certain element, of which the church in Haverhill had its quota. The opposition fought under cover. None came out openly to attack the pastor's orthodoxy ; but the dissatisfied element made its apprehensions known, and found only too much evidence that the pastor of the Centre Church was one that "meditated new things." Hunger did not w^ait to fight. He could see no advantage in it for the church. For himself he now knew there was plenty of work waiting in other fields. The story is briefly told in the report to his classmates in the record of the class of '51. "During 1869 some dis- satisfaction with my theology began to be felt, due to my undisguised sympathy with Dr. Bushnell. I thought it best for the church that I should run rather than fight, and so resigned and took a tem- porary engagement in Providence." 168 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER The council which dissolved the relation between the Haverhill church and its pastor was held Decem- ber 14, 1869. IMunger's temporary engagement at the High Street Church in Providence began almost immediately thereafter, extending from December 24, 1869, to April 1, 1871 ; but the loyal members of his flock at Haverhill did not suffer their pastor to leave without a substantial testimony of their love and gratitude. Shortly after his resignation a com- mittee, representing all save the handful of dissen- tients, waited upon him to express their sense of loss, and to leave in his hands a gift of $200 as a memorial of his faithful service. CHAPTER VI WIDENING INFLUENCE 1870-1874 Mimger's settlement in the High Street Church, Providence, was understood on both sides to be ad interim onlj^ A plan of amalgamation with the Richmond Street Church had been agreed upon, and Munger's services were engaged only to cover the interval until its consummation. This arrangement did not release him from parish duties. On the con- trary, his diary gives continued proof of faithful service in this field, the benefits of which would be reaped by the Union Church which was to grow out of the combination. But the years devoted to the systematic preparation of sermons having value both for substance and literary form were now bearing fruit. The accumulated stock was not outgrown. Old sermons could be preached with the ardor and zest of new, because they still reflected the preacher's own deepest and truest thought. After the first distracting cares of securing new quarters and removing household goods from Haver- 170 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER hill, there was some lightening also of family duties. His brothers and sister were no longer dependent on his constant aid and advice. Some leisure was thus left for literary work, and this was immediately occu- pied, though not in directions of the writer's choosing. The death of Hunger's father-in-law, Hon. J. H. Duncan of Haverhill, in 1869, brought with it the task of preparing a suitable memorial volume, and this was discharged as a labor of love, in a biography of eighty pages, covering the story of Mr. Duncan's upright and honorable life. The preparation of this manuscript for the press occupied the early months of 1870. Simultaneously with the preparation of his o^vn manuscript, JSIunger was acting the part of an inter- ested and trusted friend in the completion of a far greater literary enterprise, one of whose greatness he himself had long been fulh^ convinced. JNIulford's college-mates had expected of him a brilliant literary career, for in his college days he had given extraor- dinary proofs of literary genius. The complete inactivity of his gifted pen for long years after liis graduation was to most an inexplicable enigma. Only the few who, like INIunger, held the key to his deepest life knew the secret of this strange silence, ^lulford had reacted with all his great soul against WIDENING INFLUENCE 171 the easy celebrity of mere fine writing. He knew his powers and was determined to use them; but not until the greatest and worthiest occasion came. Of these college expectations regarding Mulford, Hun- ger himself later testified : He was immediately recognized as an able and at last, as the leading man in his class. ... A brilliant career as a writer was anticipated for him. But such forecasts were not to be fulfilled. Mulford himself thwarted them by resolv- ing not to yield to that tendency. In later years he told me that as a lad in Homer when there was a craze over Ik Marvel's "Reveries," in wliich he shared, he resolved not to write such books but only great books. The long-awaited occasion came in the days that followed the crisis of the Civil War. Mulford, as we know, had been an ardent patriot, sending forth the trumpet blasts of his eloquence from his church in South Orange, N. J. His insight into the course of national affairs was deeper than the current super- ficial optimism which expected that with the suppres- sion of the Rebellion the future of the Republic would be open and free from serious danger or obstacle. Having championed the Union as of too divine an origin to succumb either to force of arms or to the compromises of politicians, Mulford real- ized that the great task was still to come. He saw 172 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER both the opportunity and the difficulties of recon- struction; and to this problem he dedicated all the powers of his nature. The correspondence during the closing years of Hunger's pastorate in Haverhill affords intimations of the work that was occupying JNIulford's mind. Increasing deafness had compelled his retirement from the New Jersey parish, in November, 1864. He had then betaken himself to life on a farm near Friendsville, Pa., some ten miles from Montrose, his native place. In this rural solitude of Friends- ville, Mulford's great book, "The Nation," was wrought out, its conceptions being submitted to Munger first in oral discussion and later in manu- script. The beginning of the year 1870 saw the copy complete in the hands of the printer, though not with- out repeated struggles; for the author had insisted over and over on complete revision of the entire work. In January the final proofs were at last in hand ; but for the correction of these Mulford desired further advice and cooperation, and wrote for leave to come and spend in Providence such time as might be needful for the purpose. Needless to say the request was gladly acceded to, and from January 4 to February 22 the two friends lived and wrought together. At last, on the latter WIDENING INFLUENCE 173 date, Munger enters in his diary "Read proof with Mulford all the morning and finished his book." Of the book itself we need not speak. Munger's con- fidence in it and loyal faith in his friend were found not to be misplaced. Those in highest authority and best qualified to judge gave a verdict which posterity has not reversed. In the language of a contemporary it secured to its author "a recognized place among the profound and original minds of his generation." A tribute peculiarly dear to him was the honorary degree of LL.D., conferred in 1872 by his alma mater; but chief of all rewards was the consciousness that he had given enduring expression to a sublime ideal, making patriotism mean a nobler, higher thing to every loyal citizen of the gi'eat Republic. What Munger thought of it he has told us in the address from which we have alreadj^ quoted: The "Nation" was distinctly due to the War. If there are intelligent critics and students of history in the coming centuries they will not fail to acknowledge that the pro- foundest conception of the nature of the Nation and the first unfolding of it as a moral organism in this country was the work of Mulford as he watched the struggles of the country in its great conflict. He saw what Dr. George A. Gordon has so admirably described in his recent Lowell Lecture — that it was a "Conflict between the humanity of the nation 174 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER and its inhumanity." Mulford, in hopelessly abstract lan- guage, made Gordon's statement even more concrete by say- ing that the nation as a moral organism was struggling to save its own life. Other associations too were cooperating to develop Hunger's literary powers. While still in Haver- hill he had become a member of a club in Boston, chiefly composed of ministers and men of literary taste and standing. The quality of contributions to the Winthrop Club must be of the highest, and in April, 1866, we find among these an "Essay on Robertson," prepared by Munger with an enthusiasm which bespeaks his moral earnestness and apprecia- tion of the need for reconstruction in religion, as much as its literary finish evinces his capacity for the service he was soon to perform. The essay is an appreciation of Robertson, both as man and thinker. His devoted life, cut off at thirty- seven after having proved himself, in a few years of service in his obscure little parish at Brighton, the foremost preacher of the age, met Plunger's ideal of the preacher. The freedom of his principles of thought, fearlessly confronting those great prob- lems of religious faith from which a Ne\^^nan recoiled into the shelter of infallible authority, kindled INIun- ger's own aspiration to take up the standard and WIDENING INFLUENCE 175 carry it forward. One might read between the hnes of this essay the promise of a work not alien in spirit from Robertson's own. But the time was not yet. The period of service in the High Street Church reached its predetermined close on April 1, 1871, with the completion of the arrangements which formed the Union Church, and Hunger's people testified their appreciation of his services by a gift of two hundred and fiftj^ dollars. Besides the con- sciousness of usefulness, Munger's work in Provi- dence had brought him the privilege of close relations with an old classmate and friend, James Gardiner Vose; for Vose had begun his almost lifelong pas- torate over the Beneficent Church in Providence in January, 1866. It brought also some valued friend- ships, including renewed association with J. Lewis Diman,^ then professor in the university, whose theo- logical writings and preaching were alreadj^ drawing the attention of thoughtful men. It had also been marked by some approaches toward publication. But these Avere still very slight, for long and careful as Munger's training had been, his entrance into the field of letters was greatly delayed. A single article had appeared in The Congregationalist in 1860, entitled "The Revival," but for ten years this re- 1 Author of "The Theistic Argument as Affected by Recent Theories." 176 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER mained almost his only printed work. Now, in the same year as the "Memorial of Mr. Duncan," we find record of another article in The Congregationalist on "A National Conference" and a lecture before the Young Men's Christian Association at Haverhill on "The Reform of Labor." The lecture was not given without personal study of industrial conditions, and the growing agitations in this direction were soon to call for further employment of his powers of thought and expression. Meantime, a new factor was entering the home life, touching it with the deep sympathy of pain. In the summer of 1870 the little daughter, who from the very first had been a constant source of joy, began to show disquieting symptoms of weakness and suf- fering, which culminated in "serious spinal disease." The best medical care then obtainable was secured, but little by little its futility became apparent, and little "Rosa," the sunshine of the home, was physi- cally crippled by the disease, though spiritually and mentally her nature generously responded to the double portion of tenderness and love poured out upon her. Father and daughter had been playmates before ; they became comrades now, so far as a child's sympathy of thought can accompany a father's. But the discipline of pain had its predestined place in the WIDENING INFLUENCE 177 family life. It now began its part. Later years were to prove the "soul of goodness in things evil" in this affliction also. The younger children grew up, obtained their education and took their places in homes and families of their own. The brief period of care and sacrifice needful to qualify them for their independent careers brought its twofold measure of compensation, first in the joys of family life in the parental household, and later in parental satisfaction in the children's success. But Rose remained her father's close companion, ultimately his helper in literary work. So little by little, as the hope of physi- cal soundness was taken away, the world of mind, of spirit, of affection, opened its doors the wider as other doors were closed. Hunger's reputation as a preacher was too well established in Southern New England by spring of 1871 to allow his services to remain long unclaimed. After the consummation of the union by a unanimous vote, followed by confirmatory action of council, Munger preached, on April 2, in the Eliot Church at Lawrence, Mass., and again on the following Sunday in the same pulpit. The next Sunday was spent in Boston preaching in the Chambers Street Church in the morning and the Old South Church in the even- ing, but the following Sunday finds him again at the 178 THEODORE THORNTON ^lUNGER Eliot Church, and in the journal for Tuesday, April 25, is the entry: "Mr. Russell of Lawrence called, bringing to me a call from the Eliot Church in Law- rence, made out last evening. The call was unani- mous, and was preceded by a payment of the church debt of $14,000 — pa5'ment to be made conditional on my acceptance." A letter accepting the call was sent on the following Thursday. The salary offered and accepted was $2,500, the same that Hunger had been receiving in Providence ; not munificent, but sufiicient for careful housekeep- ing. There was still a premium on gold, however, and it was found a measure of economy to purchase a barrel of flour at $12.50 and fifty pounds of sugar at fourteen cents a pound. Yet in many ways the new beginning in Lawrence was the most auspicious thus far experienced. The installing council which convened on June 14 was unanimous in its approval, and had not so much as raised a question upon the candidate's statement of his doctrinal beliefs. The church itself, which bore the name of Munger's ances- tor, the man of whom Richard Baxter said, "There is no man on earth that I honor above him," was a recent and strong foundation in a city already dis- tinguished among the great textile centres of Xew England. An offshoot from the two older Congre- WIDENING INFLUENCE 179 gational churches of the city, founded with their cordial approval to meet the demands of growth, its inward and outward relations had been full of har- mony and good will. The occasion for Hunger's coming had been no dissatisfaction, but the untimely death of a gifted and devoted pastor. Rev. William F. Snow, under whom its membership had grown in the five years of its existence from thirty-two to one hundred and twenty-nine. Hunger's coming was but three months after the death of Hr. Snow, and we have seen how unanimous the action of the church had been. The only cloud on the prospects of the young and vigorous organization was a remaining burden of debt for its recently built house of worship. The fourteen thousand already paid had left an uncancelled remainder of some $7,000. In these financial matters Hunger proved a wise counsellor. By his advice the church finances were committed to the care of an ecclesiastical society, after the usual plan of Congregational churches, and with excellent results. Early in Hunger's ministry at Lawrence occurred the death of one of the great English leaders of Chris- tian thought, one whose influence on his own life had been exceeded by Robertson alone, and who to his friend, Hulford, had been an object of idolized devo- 180 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER tion. To Mulford we find him writing in April, 1872: The death of Maurice makes the world seem lonely. When such a man goes from us half the world goes with him, and seems lost to us. All Persia may star\'e, and we pity them; but when a great mind and one so helpful dies, there comes a sense of desolation. I confess that I am not of a temper to throw my cap in the air and hurrah over everything that takes place because all is for the best. The time has not yet come for the eternal calm to settle upon us, nor do I believe it ever will fvlly. I cannot conceive of life progressing except under the antagonism of joy and sorrow. A criticism earlier in the letter of Maurice's style and service to theological thought is followed by expressions of wonder at the insensibility of the reli- gious public in America to the common loss, an insensibility which today seems surprising enough. His death has made me more sad than I could have sup- posed — not his death simply, but the silence with which it is received in this country. It was some time before I could substantiate some vague allusions to it that I heard. I pre- sume it was noticed while I was at the South. I read two Religious papers (they are truly such), The Congregational- ist and The Advance, and neither, so far as I have seen, have more than adverted to him. What an ignorant people we are! These papers are very religious. If a Congrega- WIDENING INFLUENCE 181 tional minister receives a present of a study chair the world is informed of it to the extent of thirty thousand read- ers. And just now The Advance is trying to say in the least offensive way that a man cannot be a Christian unless he believes in eternal punishment. Of course it is twisting itself into all sorts of shapes in its efforts to say that it does not quite mean exactly that, but something like it with certain qualifications. I say, If a man believes it, let him say so. If he does not, say so. If he is uncertain let him hold his peace. For my own part I am trying more and more to preach a gospel of deliverance — the forgiveness of sins. I cannot tell you what an almost "insufferable light" gathers about the Gospel when I thus look at it. I had occasion last evening to speak comparatively of Isaiah Ivii. 13 and Romans viii. 1, the same spirit, the same fact even, in both places though in much grander form in Isaiah than in Paul. Yet Isaiah's declaration is weak because it is a word; whereas Paul's is based upon a human manifestation. Have you ever noticed how in Isaiah Ivii. 15 God is described — preparatory to the assurance of forgiveness.'' The charge of provincialism and intolerance brought against contemporary American Congrega- tionalism was largely just. As a nation we combine self-sufficiency with an amazing ignorance. And in 1872 the religious atmosphere of Boston itself was surprisingly unaffected by European thought and criticism. Munger, as we know, had kept in touch 182 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER with the movement of religious thought in England. His more fortunate circumstances were in part the cause. In Dorchester he had kept in constant con- tact with men of light and leading, personally and through the printed page. In Lawrence new friend- ships began, including names such as Horace E. Scudder and George MacDonald. There was ample ground for Plunger's strictures. The "ignorance" complained of was largely wilful. The provincialism and intolerance were real. And their effect was most injurious in the period of reconstruction. It will be needful to review briefly the course of preceding events. Bj^ its very nature Puritanism resents the stigma of an unworthy membership. In New England, while "regeneration" continued to be its absolute condition, there was relaxation in practice. Wherein did the proof of "regeneration" consist? To those whose way of thinking was such as Munger imputes to The Advance it had come to be largely an accep- tance of traditional doctrine. This departure from primitive Congregationalism was not without a his- tory. The great "New-light" controversy of the days of Whitfield and Edwards swept over the churches in reaction from the influx of members under the so-called "Half-way covenant." JNIen of WIDENING INFLUENCE 183 upright life, who 5^et could not profess the experience of the "twice-born," were admitted to those more general privileges of the church which in the prevail- ing political conditions of the colonial period were necessarj^ to full rights of citizenship. Lax interpre- tation in certain quarters had been an inevitable result. Closer definition of that "consistency of behavior" with religious profession which the primi- tive standards of Puritanism demanded was felt to be necessary. How should the membership of the "church visible" be brought into closer coincidence with the membership of the "church invisible," the "blessed company of all Christ's faithful people" as the prayer-book phrases it? This was the practical question confronting all the "free" churches during the nineteenth century. Laxity of belief might in the judgment of many go so far as to make the profes- sion of "Christian" faith incredible. Creeds were drawn up to meet this danger. The "liberal" move- ment in Massachusetts, at the beginning of the nine- teenth century, produced the so-called "Unitarian schism," wherein the contention of the "liberals" was the old-time Congregational principle that "the covenant and not the creed is the basis of church membership." JNIany conservatives, on the other hand, had come to feel in the heat of controversy that 184 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER "liberal" views regarding the person of Christ and other fundamental doctrines were inconsistent with a truly "regenerate" character. Hence the adoption of the novel and dangerous expedient of using the creeds or statements of belief not as "testimonies" but as "tests." The formulation of these had been expli- citly recognized as a prerogative of the churches by the Boston Council in 1865. But many churches were making assent to them a condition of member- ship. Had the local creeds been limited, like the Burial Hill Declaration, to doctrines denial of which was, in the honest judgment of their framers, incom- patible with the discipleship acknowledged by the great Head of the Church, the practice would have been less objectionable. Christian charit}" and com- mon sense would soon have gained the upper hand over controversial zeal. But the process once begun extended far beyond the original intent. The effort came to be to exclude not merely those who in their whole life, their professed faith, and their actual char- acter taken together, must needs be regarded as unacceptable to Christ himself, but above and beyond this certain others unacceptable only to "our church" or "our denomination." Many of the self-styled "orthodox" or "Trinitarian" Congregational cliurches of New England found themselves as a con- WIDENING INFLUENCE 185 sequence of this movement, begun about 1800, in the anomalous position of saying to men and women whom, by their own acknowledgment, Christ himself might be welcoming as "my brother, and my sister, and my mother": "You may be members of the 'church invisible' but you cannot be members of 'our church.' " The moment this line is crossed catho- licity breaks down. It is true that Protestant "de- nominations" generally find themselves more or less in the same predicament, in proportion as their recog- nition of real discipleship has come to be wider than the denominational fold. But the Congregational polity, with its principle of the independence of the local church, side by side with its emphatic affirma- tions of catholicity, permits the anomaly to appear in its extreme form. Thus the same Council of 1865, which in Boston had explicitly affirmed the right of the local church to formulate its own creed, pro- ceeded upon adjournment to Plymouth to adopt the Burial Hill Declaration without a dissenting voice. And the Burial Hill Declaration is before all things a declaration of catholicity. It commends as the "distinctive excellence of our Congregational sys- tem" that it "facilitates the union of all true believers in one Christian church," and denounces its actual division as "the shame and the scandal of Christen- 186 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER dom." Its declaration of the common faith is not only couched in phraseology purposely made general and comprehensive even to the point of amhiguity, but is introduced by a preamble of whose spirit the clauses just quoted bear witness, and which concludes as follows: We rejoice that, through the influence of our free system of apostolic order, we can hold fellowship with all who acknowledge Christ; and (can) act efficiently in the work of restoring unity to the divided Church, and of bringing back harmony and peace among all "who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity." Thus recognizing the unity of the Church of Christ in all the world, and knowing that we are hiU one branch of Christ's people, while adhering to our own peculiar faith and order, we extend to all believers the hand of Christian fellowship, upon the basis of those great fundamental truths in wliich all Christians should agree. With them we confess. . . . The Burial Hill Declaration remains the only creed which a body representative of American Con- gregationalism as a whole has ever approved. It is hard to see how the principle of catholicity could be more carefully guarded. Nothing whatever is affirmed as belonging to the substance of the faith that is rejected by any Christian. The doctrines it WIDENING INFLUENCE 187 propounds as vital are sincerely intended to meet the ancient standard of a "historic" faith, the require- ment that it shall be quod semper, quod uhique, quod ah omnibus. Perhaps no creed has ever been formu- lated with less of the desire to exclude, or more of the desire to be inclusive in fellowship. And 3^et, as we have seen, its adoption was a sub- ject of vehement protest to men like Hunger. In his letter to Mulford soon after the Boston Council, a letter from which we have already quoted, he refers to its work in no measured terms. He accuses its members of "imposing a yoke which Christ has not imposed." Is this, then, because of the closing affir- mation that : Those who thus hold "one faith, one Lord, one bap- tism" together constitute the one CathoHc Church, the sev- eral households of which, though called by different names, are the one body of Christ, and the pledge of cooperation "with all who hold these truths" in the work of universal evangelization? Surely it would need to be shown that the creed as formulated does not really express what it so re- peatedly asserts as its intended content, the faith of "the whole Church," excluding none, even "though called by different names." But no; this is not the charge. Conscious violation of the professed princi- 188 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER pie could hardly be maintained against the authors of the instrument. Hunger's objection has a differ- ent aim. The "weak spot" in Congregationalism of which he complains is a habit wliich by 1865 had become general among American Congregational- ists, though tolerated in no other land and plainly subversive of fundamental principles of the body. It is the exclusion from church membership of persons not denied to be true followers of Christ. As the letter puts it, "The very best persons in my congre- gation cannot come into the church because of a lum- bering creed that only here and there by chance touches Christianity." Local covenants as well as local creeds were made instruments of this abuse. But always at bottom it was in consequence of the same delusion, the narrow delusion of the "denomina- tion," the irrepressible notion that it is somehow per- missible to take action nominally on behalf of the undivided Christ, while the real horizon is limited to "our church," or "our denomination." It was be- cause he saw in it an outcome of this uncatholic, self- centred spirit that Hunger took exception to the action of the Boston Council. The evil was far from exceptional. Throughout New England there were churches whose covenants required of candidates for membership Sabbath WIDENING INFLUENCE 189 observance, total abstinence, and whatever else might please the dominant faction of a local church — excellent practices for the most part, but far beyond "the yoke imposed by Christ himself." And if this was true of local covenants, it was still more true of local creeds. Availing themselves of the unbounded liberty of independency, pastors and committees had drawn up creeds to their own liking which upon the vote of a bare majority of members, might be, and often had been, made a barrier to all candidates for admission not of this theological opinion. The very authors of these covenants and creeds were not aim- ing to present Christ's conditions, nor to define the "historic" faith. They were aiming to frame their own conditions, to define their own faith and that of their immediate narrow circle. Nor could the absurd- ity of the process have escaped them, had there not always been present that convenient receptacle for the excluded Christian — some "other denomination." Schism had been first endured, then pitied, then embraced. Thus official and public utterances said one thing; real practice in particular communities said another. The Declarations, framed by the great leaders, men familiar with the ancient principles, are full of catho- licity, they breathe the very atmosphere of toleration 190 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER and liberty. But among the forces which gave them birth and would also turn them to account was the narrow spirit of intolerance, whose final definition of the "historic" faith must ever be: The faith as it has at last come to unfold itself to me. The two conceptions stand in absolute opposition. With the one, catholicity involves more and more, as larger experience proves real Christian life depend- ent on fewer and fewer of the things once mistakenly deemed essential. With the other, it involves less and less. Real catholicity is already abandoned as a futile dream. It accepts the miserable fait accompli of schism, the doctrine that Christ is divided, and seeks only the supremacy of its own division. Both tendencies were present in the Boston Coun- cil of 1865. The noble associations of Burial Hill brought catholicity at last to the fore ; but the debates of the preceding sessions had shown the presence of a large element whose idea of reconstruction was the consolidation of a denominational organization, with sharper definition of the (denominational) creed as the primary step. For a generation after the Civil War this remained the issue in the problem of recon- struction. The problem itself is that of the Republic of God, to which the Congregationalism of the fathers had sought to apply the principle of "vari- WIDENING INFLUENCE 191 ety in unit}'." Opposed to this is the denominational idea, which relinquishes the ancient faith in, and hope for, catholicity, and seeks only to be the best among the sects, in the tacit hope that sooner or later the best will also prove the strongest. Since the time of the Unitarian schism the problem of catholicity has been peculiarly vital for the churches of Eastern Massachusetts. We have seen how it affected Hunger in Dorchester at the very beginning of his ministry. The time was not far off when his part in the struggle would be a leading one. Meantime, the Eliot Church was not without its phase of the problem, while echoes of the conflict in the Boston Council were destined to sound among the New England hills for many years to come. Exercise of the inalienable right of each local church — the Congregational unit — to formulate its own creed and covenant will inevitably produce as many sects as churches, if the framers of the stan- dards define and legislate in the interest of no larger body than their own local organization. In propor- tion as this narrow viewpoint is transcended the evils of sectarianism will disappear, until with the sincere effort of each free community to make its member- ship and work coincide with the membership and work of Christ in that locality, the last occasion or 192 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER excuse for schism shall have vanished. But tolera- tion is a virtue which flourishes best among the oppressed. In Xew England the conditions which had given birth to church liberty were reversed. Toleration was no longer the goal in view, but a boon to be extended (if one saw fit) to others. Too often it was refused, and witli refusal came the growth of sects. When at the opening of the nineteenth cen- tury Massachusetts was rent from end to end by the Unitarian schism, the "liberals" appealed to the ancient Congregational principle: "The covenant, not the creed, is the basis of fellowship." They appealed too long in vain. The formula should be no monopoly of Congregationalists. Loyalty of heart, as evinced in cooperation to the common end, is a better bond of union than clearness (or perhaps mere conventionality) of mind. With greater or less consistency this principle is recognized by all the Protestant churches, which if never so strict in their requirements as to the orthodoxy of church teachers, do not stultify themselves by requiring those who enter the membership to be qualified in matters of the head, but only of the heart. It was the misfortune of New England Congregationalism, in encounter- ing midway in its development a strong movement of intellectual liberalism, to bring against it an WIDENING INFLUENCE 193 equally strong development of the spirit of local independence. The result was a veritable canoniza- tion of the sectarian spirit. Unitarians were at first excluded on the logical ground that no denier of the divinity (or, as sometimes phrased, the deity) of Christ could be a Christian, however Christ-like his life. Later, when experience disproved this, the ex- clusion continued notwithstanding. Contrary to ancient principle it rested on doctrinal grounds alone. A bare majority in the smallest village or suburban church felt itself justified in defining Christianity to the exclusion not only of Unitarians, but (logically) of the non-conforming minorit}^ and sluj others who might happen not to be in agreement, — nay, even of persons who, if appljdng as candidates dismissed by letter from other churches, would have been received. The question whether they were Christians or not no longer interfered with the process. There were "other denominations" for them to join if they wished. A collection of nineteenth century "creeds" from the New England churches, almost invariably framed not as "testimonies" to the beliefs of the framers, but as "tests" to exclude Unitarians and other obnoxious brands of Christians, would be laughable were it not melancholy. The absurdities of the situation called for reconstruction. In the Boston 194 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER Council there were, as we have seen, "denomination- ahsts," whose cure was to raise the process to a higher plane, superseding local creeds by a simplified, yet safeh' orthodox, uniform creed for the "denomina- tion." As we have seen there were otliers whom we may venture to designate Old Congregationalists, reluctant as the fathers had been to formulate any creed at all, determined if one were formulated that it should be at all events "catholic" and not merely "denominational." This question had still its course to run. The question of local idiosyncracies in the cove- nant was easier of settlement, and did not occupy the attention of councils. As we have seen, obscura- tion of the idea of catholicity and the narrowing influence of provincial individualism had led many Congregational churches to treat the forms employed in the "covenants" as though the service and loyalty therein pledged were due not to the Church's Head, but to the local brotherhood. Temperance was a very important reform. Total abstinence was a good method, and in the eyes of many the only method, of promoting the reform. A few regarded the tasting of any alcoholic beverage as sinful in itself, recon- ciling their opinion with Scriptural precedent by various exegetical expedients. Numerous churches WIDENING INFLUENCE 195 accordingly embodied total abstinence pledges in the church covenant, not because a church could not be a church of Christ without being also limited to total abstainers, but because having for the time being a majority in the organization they thought it per- missible to enlist their church to this particular method of temperance reform, and bid Christians of other views go elsewhere. Among the well-meaning churches which had inserted such a pledge was the Eliot Church. The new pastor, himself in practice an abstainer, unostenta- tiously obtained its removal, on the just ground that the church covenant is not a proper place for pledges of the kind. The creed nevertheless remained. Like that complained of to Mulford in 1865, it was doubt- less a barrier to "some of the best people in the con- gregation." But the use of creeds involved problems of reconstruction on more extensive lines. The pro- cess had begun in the deliberations of nation-wide assemblies. In November, 1871, a second National Council convened at Oberlin, Ohio, resuming the work of the Boston Council and opening the series of Triennial Councils since maintained. Foremost among the questions considered was that of "catho- licity," and the Council put on record one more "Declaration on the Unity of the Church" prepared 196 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER by a committee whose chairman was Leonard Bacon. It "renewed the previous declarations," affirming the hberty of our churches to be "the ground and hope of a more visible unity in time to come." Reiterating "the same catholic sentiments solemnly avowed by the Council of 1865, on the Burial Hill at Plymouth" it explicitly disavows on behalf of Congregation- alists the "pretension to be the only churches of Christ," asserting that : We find ourselves consulting and acting together under the distinctive name of Congregationalists, because in the present condition of our common Christianity, we have felt ourselves called to ascertain and do our own appropriate part of the work of Christ's church among men. The Declaration concludes: We believe in "the holy catholic church." It is our prayer and endeavor that the unity of the church may be more and more apparent, and that the prayer of our Lord for his disciples may be speedily and completely answered, and all be one; that by consequence of this Christian unity in love, the world may believe in Christ as sent of the Father to save the world. The effort for a denominational creed had by no means ceased in 1871. There was perhaps an even larger number than before of denominationalists, whose ideal of reconstruction meant uniformitv in the WIDENING INFLUENCE 197 denomination at the expense of catholicity. It was the current method of all sects. Its motto is : Unify, solidify, and compete. But at Oberlin this concep- tion of reconstruction met little encouragement. The expression of the Council's mind had fallen into unfavorable hands. But the issue was destined to be joined. Meantime "liberty" and "catholicity" were not forgotten terms among the Congregational churches. But we must return to the pastorate in Lawrence. For nearly four years the work so auspiciously begun continued to prosper undisturbed by the industrial commotion which shook the community in the early summer of 1872. It was a period of labor organiza- tion, strikes, and trades unions, and Lawrence with its great mills was a predestined centre of unrest. Hun- ger's church had ample representation of both parties to the conflict, and Hunger, as we have seen, had already evinced his interest. Now, in the midst of the turmoil, he had wise words of counsel that thoughtful men on both sides could profit by; and they were given not only by word of mouth to the limited audi- ence of Lawrence, but published to a wide circle of readers in The Congj'egationalist, for now the col- umns of the religious weeklies were beginning to show frequent contributions from his pen. 198 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER INIunger's five successive articles on "The Lesson of the Strikes" in the summer of 1872 were both timely and sensible, showing a clear apprehension of economic laws as formulated by Fawcett, Thornton, and John Stuart Mill, as well as sympathetic feeling. They were based upon the same principles the author had advocated in the lecture at Haverhill. Their principal contention was for the alliance of capital and labor in recognition of common interest as a sub- stitute for purely self-regarding antagonism. Two possible methods were described, both already to some extent in operation. One was profit-sharing, which might more reasonably be demanded by the workman than mere increase of wages without regard to economic conditions; the other was acquisition of the means of production by cooperative trade and industry. The fallacy of the reasoning underlying the strike and the trades union as commonly under- stood was clearly exposed. Reduction of hours or increase of wages, under conditions of free competi- tion, could only react upon the laborer himself, since the product, out of which all wages must be paid, is reduced in either way, the marketer of the product, or capitalist, being compelled either to go out of busi- ness or raise his price. Increase of wages is thus balanced by enhanced prices of commodities. The WIDENING INFLUENCE 199 trades union, too, employed as an agent for monopo- lizing the labor market, defeats its own ends, for it compels those shut out from productive industries to join the great bodj^ of parasitic non-producers or else the already overcrowded ranks of speculators, clerks, and middlemen. All that is gained is that their support becomes a charge upon the product- wage-fund, without a contribution in the form of productive labor. These were wholesome truths, even if proclaimed by one who was no specialist. Hunger's part was that so often depreciated of the mere clerical media- tor. He spoke simply as an advocate of peace through equity, making no claims to economic lore, but carefully studying authorities. His call to speak was that of him who becomes a servant of all men for Christ's sake. It is not without interest, in these days of enlianced prices due in no small degree to years of warfare between labor and capital over the distribu- tion of the product, to note the prediction made almost fifty j^ears ago that the consumers must ulti- mately pay the cost of the war. The wage-earner, a consumer in larger proportion to his income than the capitalist, thus bears in the end the greater part of the new burden imposed. Into the midst of this happy pastorate of growing 200 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER usefulness and continual development came an un- foreseen interruption. The year 1S74> brought increasing symptoms of ill health, first to one, then to another of the family. The wife and mother, never strong, had an alarming illness in the spring, and in July was sent to the sanatorium in Clifton Springs, N. Y., where she remained the rest of the 3^ear. Munger himself fell ill at the same time, and his recovery was followed by a long period of physi- cal and nervous depression. Discovery of the cause came too late. Defective plumbing had caused the gradual poisoning of the family. Nothing less radi- cal than removal to a more genial climate offered promise of complete return to health. On January 20, 1875, Munger reluctantly resigned his charge, and made final arrangements for removal to Cali- fornia, On February 21 he preached his farewell sermon in the Eliot Church, reading at the same ser- vice the letter of acceptance of Rev. J. H. Barrows whom the church had already called to be his suc- cessor. ]\Iunger's journey, already sad, was still further saddened by news of the death of his "Aunt Ger- trude." The funeral services for INIrs. Selden were held on the day fixed for his departure. CHAPTER VII THE MANTLE OF BUSHNELL California, 1875-1877 Life in California brought many contrasts with New England, not all easy to bear, though all were turned to good account. The journey west had been broken at Montrose and Chicago, then rapidly recovering from its fearful holocaust, and here a visit of some days was made in the home of Mrs. Munger's brother-in-law, Robert Harris, an offi- cial of the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy Rail- road. "Brother Selden," whose home was also in Chicago, thus had opportunity as well as those in Montrose of bidding good cheer to the travelers. In San Francisco they were received in the home of another sister of Mrs. Munger, the wife of a promi- nent lawyer, but the question of support soon be- came urgent. Munger's own health, while impaired, admitted of a limited amount of work, especially if carried on out of doors, and negotiations already begun by correspondence from the East were now 202 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER completed. California was in the exuberance of its growth. The gold fever had scarcely abated and the development of agriculture by irrigation was in its first beginnings. New towns were rapidly springing up, especially around the Bay of San Francisco, and the Home JNIissionary societies of the various denomi- nations had their hands more than full with the task of supplying ministers and churches, even when care was taken not to duplicate the work. In the case of the Congregational board honorable precau- tions were taken against sectarian competition, and the state superintendent. Dr. Coe, directed the new- comer to a field where no scruples could be raised on this score: for even the nearest church neighbors, Presbj'-terians by church order, did not oppose the undertaking. It was in the city of San Jose, some fifty miles to the southeast of San Francisco, a grow- ing community, largely composed of Eastern people of moral principle and refinement, but too few in numbers and of too slender means to be able to pro- vide more for their religious requirements than a very meagre stipend, leaving the question of a home for both pastor and congregation unprovided for. Some were invalids seeking health in the climate so strangely contrasting with that of the Atlantic coast, some were seeking livelihood or fortune in the rapid THE MANTLE OF BUSHNELL 203 growth of the new state; but nearly all were obliged to live with great frugality amid the undeveloped enterprises and inflated prices of a frontier region where everybody is discounting the future. To organize a new church under such conditions, start it on right lines, nurse it into an effective esprit de corps, and finally secure for it an adequate and commodious house of worship, free of debt, all in the space of eighteen months, is no slight task. It means the self-sacrificing work of the home missionary, often more arduous and exacting than that of his brother in pagan lands. This now fell to Munger's lot. The honest pride with which he looked back in after years on his work in San Jose was fully justi- fied. "I, too, have been a home missionary" was a boast that meant much to him, and might mean much to others if the tasks of a home missionary were truly appreciated. "Here in California," he writes, "the miracle of health was repeated in the air that blows where no evil thing taints it, and the sun is every day a giver of life. While creeping back to health I tried my hand at building a church in San Jose. I begged the money from my Eastern friends, and with it bought the lumber in the redwood forests on the hills near by." Correspondence with Eastern friends in behalf of 204 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER the building fund resulted in fact in the collection of many small gifts, ranging from ten to one hundred dollars. Tliis, however, was nearly all the work allowed to Munger's pen. In June, 1875, an article on "Maxims" appeared in Scrihner's Magazine, but its composition belongs to the previous year. Even sermon writing in Cali- fornia was indefinitely postponed, and such strength as the pastor had to give was laid out upon the out- door work and social life of his miniature parish. The first congregations gathered consisted of less than one hundred persons ; but from the first services, held on Sunday, April 11, 1875, down to the final organization of the church on June 2, the numbers increased. The permanence of the work would, how- ever, depend on the securing of a home for the con- gregation. A lot was soon purchased and paid for, and on July 15 the building committee let the con- tract to erect a place of worship for the sum of $860 "to be finished in thirtj^ days." On August 29 the entry is made in the diary: "This day first occupied and dedicated the new Congregational Church. Two hundred and fifty persons present. Sunday-school attendance: pupils 72, teachers and officers 12, total 84." He soon became superintendent of the Sunday- school, and before long missionary societies and the THE MANTLE OF BUSHNELL 205 other organizations of normal church activity were in full operation. But Hunger's life-work was not to be that of a home missionary. His stay in the wilderness had been profitable. Life in the open air among the mountains had brought restoration of physical health to himself and family as well. Even the interruption of his relations with literary men and the world of thought and letters was not without its wholesome effect. The practical, hand-to-hand struggle of the frontier worker to maintain the institutions of religious life in the midst of new surroundings, and those cares of the world which are all the more apt to choke the word because the deceitful riches that occasion them are riches not in hand but in prospect, furnished a school of experience well worth adding to those of a New England minister. Two years' intermission of the regularly attended sessions of the Winthrop Club in Boston was not too high a price to pay for the new experience. "For nearly a year," he writes, "I scarcely opened a book or put pen to paper, but spent the time literally under the open sky, studying the Santa Clara Valley. Fortunately I had no books to correct my investigation, and I made a clear discovery that the Garden of Eden lay in this valley. The particular point was six miles to the westward of San 206 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER Jose, on the Santa Cruz mountains, overlooking the Pacific — a place wliich a dear friend of mine named 'Cloud Land.' No clouds ever rested there, but my friend was a poet, and never having seen or even felt a cloud, he imagined it a good place for clouds if one should happen to exist. "Many an hour I spent there, and the heavy clouds that had rested on us faded away, and the place was as heaven.'" And yet he was far from content. Frankly he confesses to "homesickness for New England." Rather than live in Cloud Land, where to the west I could look on the Pacific, and to the east see a landscape crowned by Mount Hamilton holding sentry over the deepest heavens — rather than stay there, I would accept the poorest church on the roughest hillside in New England.^ And return he did. He was not dissatisfied, or out of sympathy, with his little redwood church. When he resigned he left it free from debt, after having himself, personally, obtained nine-tenths of the money it had cost to build it. His return to the East was foreordained because Hunger's life-work could not be elsewhere. His bone and flesh were of New England ; but the occasion that brought him back was an intimation of work to be done, an intimation from no merely human source. 1 "Retrospect of Fifty Years in the Ministry." 2 Ibid. THE MANTLE OF BUSHNELL 207 Bushnell had ever been to Mimger the forerunner of reconstruction in New England theology, and the news of Bushnell's death, February 17, 1876, recalled his thoughts to that enlargement of the life of the New England church in which he longed to have a share. For the first time since his arrival in Cali- fornia he sat down to write a sermon, which he preached in San Jose, on his birthday, March 5, 1876, little realizing how great a transition it was to bring about in his own career. The sermon became later the nucleus of a volume entitled "Horace Bushnell, Preacher and Theo- logian," pubhshed in 1899, so that we need do no more than trace its outline. Its opening sentence was penetrating and significant, describing Bushnell's work with precision and insight : "More than any man in the American church," it said, "he has paved the way from the old order to the new; he is the connecting link between the habit of thought expressed in what are called bodies of divinity and modern thought." Justly characterizing Bushnell as a preacher and not a system-maker, one whose influence upon the- ology was that of the critic who puts its great doc- trines to the test of practical application in the life of the individual and the Church, Hunger pointed 208 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER out how the wide and compelling influence Bushnell had exerted was felt in four main directions : 1. Christian nurture as presented by him involved a new and more catholic theory of the Church. The American churches, long carried away on the flood- tide of revivalism, were brought again within view of the great principle of historic continuity, the prin- ciple that had once tempted Munger himself to follow his friend Mulford's example and accept Episcopal orders for the sake of building his life-work into an institution conscious of its organic relation to the apostolic past. 2. Bushnell convicted the New England the- ology, in its elaboration of a Calvinistic doctrine of the Trinity, of dealing with words rather than reali- ties. "He had no following as to his own specific view, but he drew the mind of the Church away from hard and unauthorized views of the Deity, and led it still to say with less analysis, but more of faith, 'I believe in Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.' " 3. In "Nature and the Supernatural," "the greatest of his works," Bushnell had put to the test of life the earlier conception of the transcendence of God, a conception verging on Deism. In the conflict forced upon the Church by the retention of this idea of a God at variance with nature, in the midst of an THE MANTLE OF BUSHNELL 209 age just awakened by physical science to an appre- ciation of the universal reign of law, Bushnell paved the way for a doctrine of immanence less open to objection from the physicists. Former theories had well nigh driven God out of His own world, and into the corner of a few centuries called Biblical; but this great teacher showed us Him who had hitherto worked as still working — now, and here, and all about us — the order of nature and the order of miracle pass- ing into each other, different aspects of the same ever-acting energy. Bushnell defined the supernatural as the personal or spiritual, and reduced theistic transcendence to a parallel with the transcendence of mind over matter. 4s. The same indictment framed against the logomachy of the theologians in dealing with the Trinity was urged by Bushnell against the prevailing- forensic and juridical views of the Atonement. Bushnell took everything to the test of life and reality. Language for him was the servant, not the master of thought; and even canonized thought, to win acceptance, must prove its applicability to life. Thus the doctrine of the Atonement became again what it had been in its first formulation, an attempt to explain the function of unmerited suffering. Bushnell's answer laid hold of its observed effect in 210 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER the moral realm ; a return from logic to reality, from deductive theory to induction from fact. The summing up described the power of Bushnell's personality, a providential influence in crises that else might have been disastrous to the Church. His work was done, like that of all the prophets, in face of persecution, and by the force of gifts which were preeminently gifts neither of scholar nor thinker, but of the preacher. His oratory had the qualities of poet and prophet in one, a style rising to sublimity by its beauty of diction and nobility of sentiment. Those who heard him never forgot the impression of the man as a seer and poet of God. His readers — and only Robertson of Brighton among preachers had a wider circle — found his imagination a door opened to the unseen world. The preacher kindling to his theme, inspired by the thought of the departed leader who more than any other had filled his ideal, pictured unconsciously the issues of his own life. Summing up the work of Bushnell he summed up his own; for this was the ideal toward which he had tended from the very first : Such a man was sorely needed; he came and did his work well. His influence is not easily measured or traced, just because it is so high and fine ; but also because it is such it is everywhere amongst us — here in California, where he THE MANTLE OF BUSHNELL 211 spent two busy years, and all over the land — helping parents in the Christian nurture of their children, quickening the preacher, quieting the doubts of the skeptical, assuring the conscience-stricken that their Savior came not to condemn, but to save, and persuading all that God is yet present in his own world, still working in nature and in the souls of men by law which is gracious, and by grace which is law. The sermon was printed in The Pacific and found its way back to New England. It was not long before men were looking in the far-off Santa Clara Valley for one on whom the mantle of Elijah might seem to have fallen. From East Hartford, just across the Connecticut River from Bushnell's home, came within a few weeks an invitation to take the charge of a pastorless church. Munger, as we know, was eager to return. His health, and that of his wife, was now restored. He was fully conscious that his best work could only be done in the home of his fathers, where Bushnell had opened a great door and effectual, albeit there were many adversaries. The call from East Hartford was promptly accepted, but as a temporary engagement, each side reserving the right to terminate it at the end of six months, a period subsequentty extended to nine. The church in San Jose could be left free from debt and in flourishing condition, but one more ser- 212 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER vice remained to be rendered before forsaking Cali- fornia. Pacific Theological Seminary in Oakland had then but recently begun its career, growing up under the shelter of the great state university, whose magnificent site had been chosen by Bushnell himself. It looks out over the great bay and city and far beyond between the pillars of the Golden Gate to the wide Pacific. INIunger was asked to give the annual address at the seminary commencement in May, 1876, and chose for his subject "The Immor- tality of the Soul." In this second instance also the address prepared for a specific occasion became the nucleus a few years later of an important volume, "The Freedom of Faith." Those who read the two addresses as slightly modified in the volumes cited will need no other proof that INIunger's productive vigor of mind was fully restored. The originals give abundant evidence of the conscientious care and industry given to their preparation. It was the current teaching of physical science that nature, while "careful of the type," displayed no interest in the individual ; and concomitantly that the visible universe is inexorably limited in duration, a running down affair. Will there, then, in the end be something or nothing? Such was the question pro- THE MANTLE OF BUSHNELL 213 pounded in the opening paragraphs of the address. The inferiority on the score of satisfaction to mind and heart of a mere physical philosophy of life, to a philosophy which rests upon the sense of worth in personality, was thus made obvious. The present relation of science to immortality may be considered indirectly favorable to the doctrine, by reaction from its own triumphs. It remands us with emphasis to the domain of the spiritual nature for light which it has demonstrated to itself that it cannot find. The speaker next admitted the necessity to any doctrine of individual immortality of a persistence of the personal consciousness after death. Equally indispensable would be an environment by relation to which the personal consciousness could maintain itself. For continuity of vital force alone is a mockery. It fulfils the promise of immortality to the ear and breaks it to the hope. So, too, does mere absorption into the Nirvana of a limitless, undiffer- entiated ocean of being. On the other hand the speaker rejected the idea of an invisible material world as presented in "that well-intentioned but most unsatisfactory book, 'The Unseen Universe,' " and demanded as the soul's needful environment beyond the material not another kind of matter, nor another 214 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER aspect of matter, but "something other than matter," for which we have no other term than "spirit." "If I have a sort of personahtj^ in the physical world, have I not also a personality in God?" It is as reasonable for the metaphysician to posit this indispensable medium and condition of personal consciousness, he contended, as for the physicist to posit the himinifer- ous ether declaring it to be the indispensable medium of light. With the possibility granted of a relation between spirit and spirit, requiring no physical medium, the speaker turned to his final plea, a positive basis for belief in the persistence of individual personality; and here he found himself on familiar ground, the testimony of the poets, Tennyson, Wordsworth, and Blanco White. Besides the aspirations these voice in song, there are the convictions of the world's mas- ter-minds, impartially seeldng the truth, Plato, Cicero, Bacon, Montesquieu, Butler, Kant, and Goethe. Moreover the universe in its very structure exemplifies the saying, "He that asks, receives." Want meets supply; and intellect and emotion alike reach out after endless continuance. This is seen to be indispensable to the rounding out of man's nature as he perceives its latent possibilities, its dimly out- lined ideals. And yet the hope of immortality must THE MANTLE OF BUSHNELL 215 remain a hope only. It must remain where Christ and the Scriptures have placed it, in the domain not of knowledge but of faith. The rational sense of immortality is achieved by progressive apprehension of the soul's relation to God. The eternal life which Christ offers is "not made up of a succession of end- less ages, though it involves this," it is participation in the infinitude and perfectness of God. The period of rest and recuperation in California came to an appropriate close with a week's visit to the Valley of the Yosemite. Communion with nature in its sublimest aspects was followed by farewells to the church in San Jose,^ and the long journey east. Before beginning ministerial work at East Hartford a visit was made also to the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia. Hunger's proximity to Hartford brought him more than one "delightful friendship" from the group of ministers which included names such as Twichell, Burton, and Parker. Potwin, Hunger's classmate, was also of the number. Parish cares were resumed with customary fidelity, 3 The farewell discourse preached on his leave-taking was not the last of Hunger's relations with the church in San Jose. At the fifteenth anniversary of its founding the church received from him a letter read at the anniversary to recall the days when, under his leadership, they had struggled up into independent life and vigor. 216 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER and more than customary bodily and mental vigor. But the direction of the church's policy rested in the hands of reactionaries incapable of sympathizing with IMunger's ideals. To him the long bridge from the city of Bushnell to East Hartford measured "fully one hundred years across." The difference between himself and these good men might doubtless have been overcome; but the engagement had been temporary and tentative from the start; other fields were offering more inviting opportunit}'^ of effective service, and under such circumstances the long effort for composure of differences would have been a mis- take of judgment. Munger had come back to New Efngland for the service of all the churches, and opportunity soon came through the agency of his friend, Jenkins, then settled in Pittsfield, ]Mass. A very different atmosphere from that of East Hartford pervaded the Congregational Church in North Adams, Mass., which in the fall of 1877 sent in its call to Munger to take the place of its ex-pastor. Rev. Lewellyn Pratt, recently removed to a profes- sorship in the neighboring Williams College. North Adams is an industrial town of sturdy and vigorous type, under the shadow of Greylock, and manifests in its whole life that virility which characterizes the old-time population of the Berkshire Hills. THE MANTLE OF BUSHNELL 217 Dr. Pratt's predecessor, the young clergyman who, after a ministry in North Adams of five years' dura- tion, had taken up the work of rehgious editor of the New York Independent, soon resuming the pastor- ate in the city of Springfield, had been no other than Washington Gladden, clarum et venerahile nomen. The contrast may well be imagined between the church in North Adams as Gladden and Pratt had left it, and the church in East Hartford as Munger had found it. A brief extract from the sermon preached on its seventy-fifth anniversary will suffice to describe its condition. Gladden, it declares, was no mere defender of a traditional system of theology like most of the men of his day. Horace Bushnell had saved him for the ministry when he was in revolt against the unhuman character of much of the current theology. What Gladden's theology was may be inferred from his writings. The character of his service as a pastor may be inferred from his noble hymn of ser- vice, "O Master, let me walk with thee." But we have explicit testimony: . . . As a business man Dr. Gladden would have been a chief among his fellows, and as the administrator of a parish no man could surpass him. Through his efforts the parish 218 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER was divided into districts. Sub-pastors were appointed in these districts, district meetings were held, the country about reached, a canvass brought up the missionary offerings from practically nothing to a generous figure. All this was accomplished easily by the church when it was paying twice as much for its home expenses as it ever had before. Here was a field congenial indeed. It was not large or rich; but it was vital and progressive, and Hunger gladly accepted the opportunity. One great obstacle, however, remained to be surmounted; and to surmount it meant a service to no merely local communit}^ but to the Church catholic. JNIunger responded to a call to liberate the ancient church of New England from a yoke of traditional authority which, little by little, they had unwittingh^ fastened upon their necks. Orthodoxy among the Congregationalists of the Berkshire Hills was no mean inheritance. The tide of Unitarian liberalism which had engulfed Eastern Massachusetts had encountered here unlooked-for opposition. The strong conservatism of mingled Scotch and New England blood of these industrial towns formed a barrier like the granite peaks which surrounded them. Reaction from laxity had carried many Congregational churches to the opposite ex- treme. We have referred to the ancient principle of THE MANTLE OF BUSHNELL 219 Congregationalism which leaves to the individual, whether a candidate for membership only, or for the office of pastor and teacher, the formulation for him- self of his own statement of religious experience and doctrinal conviction, and to the church or its repre- sentatives the decision on the combined evidence of profession and life. Like the Eliot Church in Law- rence, the church in North Adams had violated this principle. It had yielded to similar well-meaning innovations. In 1833 it had embodied in its covenant a pledge of total abstinence. This was removed in a revision of the creed and covenant during the pas- torate of Mr. Gladden. But the region was not yet abreast of Gladden's catholic and progressive spirit. As a whole it was still affected by the tendency to narrowness and sectarianism prevalent in the churches which, since the time of the Unitarian movement, had begun to take to themselves the dis- tinctive title of "Trinitarian" or "Orthodox." Liberalism in Massachusetts took mainly the form of protest against the somewhat mechanical and wooden Calvinistic doctrine of the Trinity. In the adjoining State of Connecticut, with which the Berkshire popu- lation has always had closer relations in many ways, the protest affected a more practical doctrine of the creed, the Calvinistic doctrine of retribution. The 220 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER Universalists, who in Connecticut parallel the move- ment of the Unitarians in Massachusetts, revolted against this mechanical conception of future punish- ment, and their open revolt was only symptomatic of more widespread dissatisfaction. The doctrine of eternal torment for the unregenerate, sometimes still heard from the pulpit, had become intolerable. Dis- satisfaction evoked attempts at ecclesiastical disci- pline, and the Congregational polity was again put to the test. Just at the time when Hunger's prepa- rations were being made for installation as pastor of the church in North Adams, whose call he had accepted September 21, 1877, a concrete case brought matters to an issue. This case was the refusal of a council to approve the installation of the Rev. Jas. F. Merriam, called to be pastor of the church in Indian Orchard, Mass. The refusal was avowedly because of his acknowledgment of views incompatible with the prevalent stricter Calvinism on the subject of eternal punishment. This refusal was registered on November 7, 1877. JNIr. Merriam's personal Chris- tian character and record of ability and faithfulness in ministerial service were admitted. The doctrinal convictions for the holding of which he was con- sidered unfit for the Congregational ministry were expressed in substance as follows: THE MANTLE OF BUSHNELL 221 ( 1 ) That the Scriptures do not clearly teach the eternal punishment of those who die unregenerate ; and (2) that if they do, that punishment is annihilation.* The Indian Orchard Church exercised the reserved right of Congregational churches, and proceeded to ordain and install Mr. Merriam, thereby sacrificing, of course, its standing in Congregational fellowship. As Mr. Merriam was a capable and worthy minister who served the church well, that particular organiza- tion suffered little, if at all, from the disapproval of its yoke- fellows; but Congregationalism as a whole had suffered a wound in its most vital principle, the principle of individual liberty and progressive devel- opment, limited only by loyalty to the historic faith as exhibited in the Scriptures. Munger was doctrin- ally by no means of the same way of thinking as Merriam. The doctrines of annihilation or "condi- tional immortality" and "restorationism," or the ulti- mate return of every soul to truth and right, which Merriam had professed, he distinctly repudiated. But the disapproval of an otherwise well-qualified minister for venturing to hold opinions which were not even asserted to be incompatible with a genuine Christian faith, but only opposed to the views of a 4 Extract from The Congregationalist of December 26, 1877, editorial, "The North Adams InstaUation." 222 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER temporary majority in the "denomination," was an invasion of Christian liberty such as every minister loyal to the principles of the ancient New England churches must feel it a duty to resist. If the mere questioning of the Calvinistic hell, with its dogma of "endless suffering arbitrarily inflicted as a vindica- tion of the Divine government" upon the great masses of mankind who had never consciously re- jected the means of grace, was henceforth to be counted an offense punishable by exclusion from the fellowship of the ministry and the churches, Con- gregationalism could no longer be regarded as a principle of liberty and progress. It had become merely another sect, whose particular stripe of belief would be determined by the votes of intolerant ma- jorities and the secession of impatient minorities. Hunger rightly judged that independency had come to a parting of the ways. The action of the Indian Orchard Coimcil represented the culmination of the wave of reaction set in motion by the Unitarian schism. From that time forward certain leaders of "orthodoxy," reviving the theory evoked by the schisms of the seventeenth century that Congrega- tionalism is a sect among the sects, not a principle in the Church catholic, had labored to formulate the creed of this new sect, and to rectify and fortify it THE IMANTLE OF BUSHNELL 223 with appropriate penalties of exclusion from the "denomination." The ancient principle: Scripture the interpreter of what is "historic" was inverted. It became: The "historic" (meaning by the term accu- mulated dogma) must be the interpreter of Scrip- ture. Those who could not subscribe to "our" creed were invited to join some other sect. The fathers of Congregationalism had considered it to be part of the calling of a clergyman to seek for that "new light from the Scriptures" which Robinson had sought, and to proclaim it, even if it involved setting aside "historic" interpretations as old as Calvin or Augus- tine. Disloyalty to fundamental Christian truth (whereof Scripture as interpreted bj^ the living brotherhood determined the limits) would result on the old principles, after regular and orderlj^ proce- dure to determine the fact, in the withdrawal of min- isterial fellowship and recognition. The new feature of the ]Merriam case was that there was no pretense of the candidate's unfitness for the Christian minis- try, nor for the Congregational ministry on other than doctrinal grounds. Xeither was the penalty proposed the ancient and logical penalty of deposi- tion from the recognized ministry. Ministers of JNIerriam's way of thinking, or otherwise differing from the creedal standards, were not to be hence- 224 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER forth denied the privilege of ministering to the Church cathohc. Their character and ability being unquestioned they might be, and they were, openly advised to seek an opening with the Universalists, or the Unitarians. They might be worthy to minister to Christ's church, but not to "our" church. It was the culmination of the sect ideal. With the uncon- scious egotism of a conservative majority, the volun- teer defenders of the faith took up a parallel to the words of Amaziah, the priest, to Amos : "O thou seer, go, flee thee away into the land of Judah, and there eat bread, and prophesy there: but prophesy not again any more at Bethel : for it is a royal sanctuary, and the king's residence." The effort which had failed to carry its point by direct assault in the case of Bushnell, when it sought his deposition from the Christian ministry, as a here- tic formally adjudged disloyal to the faith set forth in Scripture, was now apparently on the point of secur- ing its ends by indirection. It had been found com- paratively easy to convict a brother minister of unfitness to serve "our denomination." The penalty for the individual would not be serious ; and the result would be equally effective in ridding the Congrega- tional sect of disturbers of the peace. One of the dis- guised blessings of sectarianism, a "soul of goodness THE MANTLE OF BUSHNELL 225 in things evil," was thus illustrated — divine provi- dence seemed to have designed the semi-'' evangelicaV* sects as catch-alls for those not heretical enough for everlasting damnation, but too heretical for the elect of the elect. As often happens, the real issue, which we have thus attempted to define, was something far larger than that over which the opening battle was joined. The doctrine of eternal punishment of the unre- generate was the obvious weak point of Calvinism. The New England theologians had endeavored to "amend" it with greater regard for logical consist- ency than for the observed phenomena of religious psychology and experience. One of the earlier symptoms of their failure had been the growth of Methodism. Arminius triumphed over Calvin. Later schisms proved still more conclusively that the elasticity of Congregational polity was not equal to the strain of doctrinal growth. In Massachusetts there was revolt of the "liberals" against the Calvin- istic interpretation of the doctrine of the Trinity. In Connecticut the effort to condemn Bushnell as a Uni- tarian narrowly failed. But on the score of the Cal- vinistic doctrine of election and retribution, there was equal dissatisfaction on one side, and equal resort on the other to the idea of Congregationalism as a sect. 226 THEODORE THORNTON IMUNGER Universalism became in Connecticut, as we have seen, what Unitarianism had been in Massachusetts. Thus, while tlie question at Indian Orchard seemed to involve no more than the particular doctrines of con- ditional immortality and restorationism, in reality Congregational polity and the doctrine of the authority of Scripture, were at stake. Was the his- tory of progressive disruption which had reduced the New England churches from a condition of compre- hensive catholicity to that of a minor "denomination" to be continued? Was Congregationalism to cease as a principle of unity in diversity, a principle of "De- mocracy in the Church," and to become a sect among the sects, progressively narrowing itself down as the denominational creed received closer and closer defi- nition against rivals? Such would be the inevitable result, if the precedent established by the Indian Orchard Council were accepted. Was Scripture to be a refuge, as heretofore, against the despotism of traditional dogmas? Was it still to be "its own inter- preter" and not interpreted by them? If so, it would need sooner or later to be shown that on the state- ment of Scripture itself its authority does not lie in claims of infallibility, whether put forth by itself, or by others in its behalf; but only in the witness it THE MANTLE OF BUSHNELL 227 bears, a witness to the eternally living Word, the life of God in man, the life of man in God. The issues thus defined as the issues of the Mer- riam case were of course not yet clearly perceived. They were partially apprehended, one here, the other there, as men realized whither the tendencies of the time were carrying them. And to men who, like Munger, had responded to the spirit of Bushnell, his intense loyalty to reality, his protest against mere logomachy, his demand for room to think new thoughts of God, his protest against a doctrine of the human will untrue to real religious experience and fatal to Christian nurture, the Indian Orchard decision was a challenge. Munger instinctively took up the mantle of Bushnell and stood for the right to advance; for catholicity and continuity, not outside but within the Puritan faith ; not by limitation under authority of the Scripture, like the scribes, but by enlargement through its "witness," like the Son of God. At once he determined to make his statement of belief at North Adams so clear and explicit that there could be no mistaking the issue. The council should include names of such weight and impartiality as would make its decision unmistakably representa- tive. Should it decide against him he was prepared, if need be, to leave the ministry and engage in fruit- 228 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER farming in California, realizing that continuance with the church at North Adams, ready as it doubt- less would be to set the advice of its council at defiance, would probably lead to denominational disruption; and of this he did not wish to be the occasion, however much others might be the cause. The eventful council gathered on December 11, 1877, and was presided over by the venerable ex-president of Williams College, Rev. Mark Hop- kins. Among its more distinguished members were President Noah Porter of Yale, Rev. Washington Gladden, then of Springfield, and Rev. Samuel G. Buckingham of the same city, brother of the "war governor." There had been no picking and choosing of the council. It included the neighboring churches. Among these was the Pittsfield First Church, whose pastor was Hunger's old friend and classmate, "Jack" Jenkins. The "personally invited" members included also Rev. Geo. A. Jackson of Southbridge, who several years before had been refused ordination in North Adams for holding views similar to those Hunger himself entertained. The rest were repre- sentative men from the vicinity. Hunger could be confident of a fair hearing of the case. It need hardly be said that the candidate for instal- lation had prepared his statement with utmost care. THE MANTLE OF BUSHNELL 229 The examination of his credentials and record and of the action of the church was of course a mere formal- ity, but when his statement of religious conviction and doctrine was called for all minds were tense with expectation; for the Indian Orchard case was too recent and too notorious, and Munger's liberal pro- clivities too well known, to leave much room for doubt that he would at least make clear his dissent from its decision. His statement was prefaced by an explicit declaration of his acceptance of the creed of the North Adams Church, substantially identical with the Burial Hill Confession; and this acceptance was both reenforced and made more general by a declara- tion of acceptance of the Apostles' and the Nicene creeds, the historic expressions of the common faith. Bushnell had discovered that in the multitude of creeds there is liberty; because simultaneous accep- tance of many implies limitation of the assent to that essence of doctrine wherein all agree.^ Next fol- lowed a long and carefully written statement of the preacher's intended method of meeting certain de- bated questions when raised, many of these being, as he distinctly avowed, more wisely left dormant until 5 Were authoritative doctrine restricted in the church of Rome in reality as it is in profession to quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus, that church would be the freest under heaven. 230 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER enquirers should seek such further light as the teacher might feel able to give. Under this head of questions subject to "pedagogic reserve" fell certain disputed corollaries of the great principle of retribution. The principle itself was expressed in the creeds the speaker had already emphatically endorsed. Its scriptural essence was this: "Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." This was the preach- er's message of warning. Under it ^Munger declared that he "summarized his entire thinking." On the other hand his faith in the inexhaustible mercy of the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ made it to him incredible that any soul which at any time, by any means, could be led to repentance, would not be so led, and repenting be forgiven. A point there seemed to be in the psychological development of the free-agent when character hardens into a fixity of habit unchangeable for human powers. But nothing either in Scripture or experience warrants our mak- ing that point coincident with the hour of death. The object of divine retribution is purely beneficent. Whatever besides the sinner's own advantage it may have in view, it does not have in view the satiation of divine vindictiveness. So far, then, as the doctrine of eternal punishment has justification it rests on the inalienable free-agency of the soul which can never THE MANTLE OF BUSHNELL 231 be saved against its will, not on any relaxation of the divine effort to save ; for this divine effort can neither acquiesce in the soul's sinful disposition, nor violate its sovereign freedom of choice. Grace is inexhaust- ible but not irresistible. Annihilation being to Hun- ger's philosophy inadmissible, there remained here an element of truth in the doctrine of "eternal pun- ishment." But he had "no sympathy with the theology supposed to underlie this opinion (endless punishment), viz., that endless suffering is arbitrarily inflicted as a vindication of the divine government." He was "sure that no soul that is salvable is lost," but as for the imsalvable and persistent sinner, he could only leave him in that "outer darkness" where Scripture and the moral sense of mankind have left him, insisting not on the magnitude nor the duration of his loss and suffering, but only, as Christ has done, upon its awful certainty. There were four hours of suspense for Munger and the church while the council deliberated "by itself." "Old Congregationalism" (if we may so designate it) could disapprove the candidate on one or more of three grounds only. Either (1) his Christian character and experience must be at fault; or (2) his 232 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER qualifications as a teacher of Christian truth; or (3) his competence to represent Congregational polity. It was inconceivable that men of the type of ^lark Hopkins, Noah Porter, and Samuel G. Buckingham should admit a question of ]Munger's fitness on any of these grounds. But there was also present an element of unknown strength, particularly among the lay delegates, who had imbibed a newer concep- tion of Congregationalism, and had very recently given expression to it in the Indian Orchard Council, some of whose members were themselves now present. To these men too there was, of course, no question of the candidate's Christian character and experi- ence; but the other two points to be determined they would have phrased differently. They did not regard themselves as judges of his competence to teach Christian truth, but of a something to be de- fined as the Congregational variety of Christian truth. ^loreover, loyalty to the principles of the Congregational order of church government did not in their eyes make a man a Congregationalist. He must in addition interpret Scripture — which all Prot- estant churches make their supreme rule of faith and practice — as successive generations of Congrega- tionalists had interpreted it. This was their concep- tion of "historic" continuity. The line of division THE MANTLE OF BUSHNELL 233 was really, though not consciously, between those who considered Congregationalism as a principle, and those who considered it as a sect. And this time the broader minds triumphed. The precedent of Indian Orchard was reversed, and reversed without a dissenting voice! Several there were who refused to vote, after it became apparent what the nature of the council's decision would be, as delegate after delegate showed the impression made especially by the cogent and weighty words of President Noah Porter of Yale." Unable to shake off the narrower view which precedent had begun to fasten upon the churches, they were unwilling or unprepared to take public issue with some of the most distinguished ecclesiastical leaders of New England. Hence the momentous decision, manifestly inconsistent as it was with that which in the very same region had so shortly preceded it, went forth to the churches as unanimous. Of course, the matter was still far from definitive settlement. At every ordaining and installing coun- 6 In the "Retrospect of His Ministry," Dr. Hunger wrote: "President Porter carried the council. Men who had voted one way in the Indian Orchard Council voted another here." In the sermon preached on the seventy-fifth anniversary of the North Adams Church in 1902, he adds that President Porter "contended that the office of a council was not to establish a dogma, but to examine into the fitness of a man to preach the gospel." 234 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER cil for years after, candidates suspected of "liberal" tendencies were submitted to a fire of questions sug- gested by the famous council at North Adams. Out- siders, to whom Congregationalism was only one of the "sects," held up its inconsistencies to ridicule. Insiders, who took no higher point of view, sought to meet the charge by suppressing views at variance with the "historic" faith. The "historic" faith was to be determined by the resolutions of majorities and the exclusion of minorities. The North Adams Council meant the opening, not the closing, of a chapter in the history of the New England churches. Meantime, the church among the Berkshire Hills had found its worthy pastor, and the pastor had found his work. CHAPTER VIII PASTOR AND TEACHER North Adams, 1877-1885 It was a joyful people which gathered in the North Adams Congregational Church on the evening of the council, Tuesday, December 11, 1877, to participate in the services of installation. The sermon by Presi- dent Porter of Yale, the charge to the pastor by Dr. Buckingham of Springfield, the right hand of fellow- ship by Mr. Jenkins of Pittsfield, and the charge to the people bj^ Washington Gladden, were felt to have a singular appropriateness and beauty, enhanced by the presence, as presiding officer, of Dr. Hopkins. If the congregation were chiefly glad because of the unexpectedly hearty confirmation of their choice of a pastor, there were others present, particularly mem- bers of the council which at the close of the services would be dissolved, who fully realized that they had made history that day, and were deeply glad for the future of libert}^ and democracy in the church. Such a beginning was in itself inspiring. Munger began his work in North Adams conscious of fully 236 THEODORE THORNTON IVIUNGER restored vigor and energ}\ He was in the prime of his manhood, equipped with rich fruits of experience in a varied ministry. He had never relaxed in the systematic cultivation of liis own intellectual and rhetorical powers, and they were destined during the eight years of his ministrj'^ here to reach adequate expression. Both pen and voice found occupation to the limit of his powers. His contributions to the press redoubled and culminated in two remarkably successful volumes. In addition, he was in demand as a public speaker. Andover Seminar}^ made him its orator at the graduation exercises in May, 1880, and Bradford Academy at Haverhill in June, 1881. The next year the Massachusetts Sunday School Conven- tion called upon him for an address of a kindred char- acter at Boston, and his unofficial participation in the meetings of the American Board and similar denominational conventions continued constant and loyal as it had ever been, his relatively small church even shouldering the heavy responsibility of enter- taining the State General Association at its annual meeting in 1884, and acquitting itself with credit of the task. Nor was this all. The work of preacher and pastor in North Adams was extended to the suburban com- munity of Blackington, where an undenominational PASTOR AND TEACHER 237 church was maintained by cooperative effort of the Baptist, Methodist, and Congregational churches of North Adams. Munger preached and did pastoral work with regularity and devotion for this sub-parish in addition to his primary charge. But his reestablished health proved equal to the demand. The clear and invigorating air, the roman- tic scenery of the Berkshire Hills, the congenial and loyal spirit of the people — all these contributed to fill life full of new vigor and fruitful service. A letter written from New Haven in September, 1899, shows how the refreshment of these days was appreciated : My dear Rose: I am very glad you and Elizabeth are in North Adams, and are reviving your recollections of past years and meet- ing old friends. Our life there was very important to me at least. It was then I really took start in life — a rather late beginning, but better than if made before. In hardly any other parish in New England could I have had the peace and the forbearance and the support that were necessary to protect me while I was making my way out into the New Theology. North Adams may claim not a Kttle share in this, first through Dr. Gladden, and then through me. In North Adams he found "life and action." "Never before nor since," he later wrote, "have I found such a measure of it as there." 238 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER Moreover, the summer vaxiations afforded recrea- tion of mind and body. Spent sometimes by the sea, in Cohasset, or some other resort on the quaint New England shore, these usually included a visit to ]Mont- rose, where the younger ^Mungers, Hezekiah and Edward, were conducting their tannery. In the summer of 1880, and often afterwards, the four brothers were together there, greatly enjoying one another's company. The summer of 1882 was a red- letter date; for it included a three months' visit to Europe for Mr. and Mrs. Munger and their daughter. Rose, now sixteen years of age. The North Adams anniversary^ address epitomized the physical tone of this ministrj^ : I came here in need of strength and cheer — for hfe had gone rather hard with me in the few previous years — and I at once found them and more in the region itself. And, so long as 1 staid, there was never an hour, when if there was weariness or anxiety or discouragement or trouble of any sort, I did not find relief in Greylock. It did not displace God, but I learned by experience what the old Hebrew meant when he said: "I will lift up mine eyes to the hills from whence cometh my help." The close of the first 3^ear of work was indeed marked by a period of severe illness. Shortly before Christmas, 1878, the new pastor was prostrated by an PASTOR AND TEACHER 239 attack of typhoid fever, which necessitated the coming of his brother Edward from Montrose to assist in the care of the patient. But recovery was sufficiently rapid for him to be present at the service conducted in his own church by his friend, Rev. George S. Mer- riam, on February 2, 1879, and during the rest of the eight years' pastorate he seemed to have only the greater vigor from the onslaught of the fever. Hunger's literary tastes and training, and more especially the circumstances of his induction to the North Adams pastorate, made it a foregone conclu- sion that his gifts as a writer would find employment to the advantage of the church at large. Had he not been responsive to the claims of New England Con- gregationalism, considered not as a sect but as a principle, he would not have risked the most inviting settlement that had yet been offered him by challeng- ing the judgment of the installing council. But more vivid than this sense of duty to the church at large was the consciousness of his obligations as minister of the local parish. His church was not indeed the only one in the little town, nor even the oldest ; but it stood for the old New England Puritan institutions; and had always led the way in matters of education and gen- eral welfare. Even so, a man conscious of literary ability, but less disposed than Munger to subordinate 240 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER his own career to the welfare of the particular flock entrusted to him, might easily have made mere parish cares secondary. The call to "wider interests" and the "welfare of the church at large" is apt to drown the plea of local need. In point of fact, Munger's ministry in North Adams, while it witnessed the pub- lication of the best appreciated and most widely cir- culated of his books, besides magazine articles and an almost uninterrupted stream of more ephemeral liter- ary products, was predominantly and of conscientious purpose a "civic" ministry. For some reason — perhaps because it was divided into two very energetic villages, each quite conscious of its rights and privileges — little had been done toward securing the institutions common to New England towns beyond schools and churches, with the indispensable fire, water and gas companies. The village was so large, and — may I say it — so much in evidence in the public prints, that this lack had become rather unpleasantly notorious. W« had reposed too long on our laurels of Chinese labor and the Hoosac tunnel.^ To Hunger's mind the most obvious lack was that of a public library, and he soon bestirred himself to awaken public realization of the need. On Thanks- 1 "Seventy-fifth Anniversary First Church in North Adnms," 1902, p. 28. PASTOR AND TEACHER Ml giving day, 1879, availing himself of the New Eng- land custom which especially sets apart this occasion for questions of civic rather than primarily religious interest, he preached a sermon on the subject, remind- ing his hearers that the $5,000 recently paid by forty residents of the village for their several copies of the Encycloijcedia Britannica would have sufficed to pur- chase 3,000 volumes and support a public library an entire year. It was also pointed out that, while the high school required a study of English literature and history, no books on either subject were accessible to the scholars. The Thanksgiving sermon of 1879 was the beginning of agitation and effort. It was well received, and met with cordial and sincere response; but common effort was required, so that it was not until July, 1883, that a committee of fifteen, repre- senting every church, at last convened for definite action. Twenty pledges of $100 each were secured from individual citizens toward a guarantee fund, and within a month a vacant store had been hired on the main street, and a library and reading-room were in full operation. It contained about 1,500 volumes, and furnished the papers and magazines of the day, the whole in charge of a salaried librarian. Thus, through the cooperation of the churches and citizens, on Hunger's initiative, North Adams secured its 242 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER public library without waiting for some rich bene- factor. A fair given under the auspices of all the churches with the sympathy of the whole community secured sufficient funds to maintain the new institu- tion until, having proved itself indispensable, its further support was assumed by the town. Another civic need was that of a hospital, the seed being sown in this case again by Hunger's foresight. Early in his ministry the very young people of his church — mere children, indeed — having come to him for advice as to the disposal of a sum of money, the proceeds of a fair, he recommended that it be placed in the savings bank as the nucleus of a fund for the building of a public hospital. The advice was fol- lowed. The fund was very small but it was prolific. The time soon came when a railroad accident, a colli- sion in the yards, proved the inability of mere private accommodations to care for the wounded. This was in the fall of 1882, and the churches again took the lead in raising a hospital fund. Munger's own church, though not wealthy, responded with an imme- diate contribution of over $200. Others did their part to follow up the children's initiative, and the building of the hospital followed in due time. The pastor of the Congregational Church foimd occupation in many such forms of civic service, and PASTOR AND TEACHER 243 his people proved that thej- had not been schooled in vain b}^ a Washington Gladden. Temperance legis- lation furnished knotty problems of civic duty, solved by consistent adherence to principles of law and virtue, liberty, and toleration. But more vital, in the pastor's judgment, than civic service was the culture of Christian character in the homes of his parish ; since without successive generations of loyal and high- minded citizens civic patriotism and integrity itself must die out. And such home culture is not a mere matter of preaching sermons. Gladden's admirable system of organizing the parish into districts was retained, and it worked effectively; but with all its help there was constant demand for the pastor's per- sonal calls. "I seldom reached the end of the day," he writes, "without weariness as heavy as that of any laborer in the mills. But," he adds, "it was a labor of intense satisfaction." Hunger's first book appeared as the fruit of these arduous but soul-satisfying labors for his flock, espe- cially its younger members. It was a modest volume of 228 16mo pages, containing nine addresses to young men on the themes: "Purpose," "Friends and Companions," "Manners," "Thrift," "Self-reliance and Courage," "Health," "Reading," "Amuse- ments," and "Faith." Their general application was 244 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER indicated by the title, "On the Threshold," and the preface indicated their origin. The plain, direct, and forceful addresses had been delivered as a course to young men on Sunday evenings, at the suggestion of President Mark Hopkins. Their extraordinarily favorable reception by the public could hardly have been anticipated. How far beyond the anticipations of the author this reception went is shown to an amus- ing degree in a letter to Mulford, whose recent appointment as lecturer in the new Episcopal Divin- ity School at Cambridge had led to a transfer of his residence thither, much to Hunger's satisfaction. Mulford's own book, "The Republic of God," pub- lished in 1881, is referred to as in preparation. North Adams, November 24, 1880. My dear Friend: It seems not quite right that you should be in the state, and I see nothing of you. I have hoped you would run up here for a few days. I have no doubt your new home holds you tightly, but when it relaxes a httle I shall certainly expect you, and if you bring a bundle of MSS. I shall like it all the better. I have myself been very busy. Parish work pressed hard and I began the season not well. I am now wholly recovered, but the work does not lessen. About a fortnight ago Mr. Houghton wrote me saying that if I would get my talks to PASTOR AND TEACHER 245 young people ready at once he would get them out in time for the holiday trade. The task seemed impossible, but I undertook it. The lectures were in no condition to go into print. Their very excellence as spoken addresses unfitted them for pubKcation unless they were to be put out as such — which would not have been what was wanted. So I went to work and rewrote the whole series, finishing yesterday. They are hardly identical with the original, and I think not so good. But — thank heaven — they are finished and I am alive. I think I have enough endurance to fast forty days or contend for the Astley belt. But I fear I have done a very unwise thing in publishing. The book will do me no credit. The subjects are not in my special line of thought. . . . Besides, I felt the restraint of writing for young men and so was kept out of all freedom of discussion. And I felt obliged to adopt a formal and so rather stiff method in order to secure sharpness of impression. It would have been easier, and (in a literary way) finer, to have rambled on, like Carlyle in his Edinburgh address ; but that would not answer in an entire book. Consequently I have two hundred pages (I suppose) of very sound and methodi- cal advice, but prosy, and often commonplace. The first and second chapters are poor, the others somewhat better. But I have no hope of them as a book, and am rather sorry that I undertook it. I speak fully of it to you as I want your consideration in advance. Scudder helped me to a good title, "On the Threshold," and I have tried to redeem 246 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER my own work by making some good quotations. So goodbye to it. I am eager to know how you enjoy your new life, and to share it for a day or two. I hope to get to Boston in December or January, but my work binds me. I have a course of lectures to superintend, my pulpit, which I stay in more and more, my three meetings each week — viz., a Sunday school teachers' meeting, a Confirmation class and a Church meeting — besides an "Authors' Carnival" that looks to me as "master of the revels." Still all these will not keep me away from Boston all winter. The letter concludes with expressions of Hunger's great satisfaction in the recent election of Garfield, reports of Carpenter's progress and welfare, and messages of family greeting. It is interesting to compare with these anticipations the reports which began almost at once to flow in from the book which he "feared would be no credit to him," and "almost wished he had not undertaken." Highest commendation came from the highest quarters. The Independent's review declared "No better book exists in our language, nor, so far as we know, in any language, to place in the hands of a young man," and this was representative. Criticism of the style was as favorable as criticism of the con- tent, and proved that the author's long years of devo- PASTOR AND TEACHER 247 tion to the art of expression had not been in vain. He was fifty years of age on the publication of this, his first book, and had systematically and assiduously cultivated tliis art since his boyhood. He had now the reward which is more apt to attend those who are slow to make the venture into literature. The publishers were the Boston firm of Houghton & Mifflin, partly for the reason that Mr. H. E. Scudder, a lifelong and intimate friend, was a mem- ber of the firm. Munger's relations with him had been especially close while Mulford's books were appearing from the same press. Scudder's advice, both now and later, as respects form and appearance, and particularly as regards the titles of Munger's books, was of the greatest value. The most practical of all tests was the most deci- sive. The public exhausted successive editions of "On the Threshold" until the plates were worn out, and eleven years after its first appearance, when more than 25,000 copies had been sold, the publishers issued an enlarged edition in their series of Cambridge Classics, a series limited to twenty volumes selected from the best English and American authors. One of the most notable results of the publication of "On the Threshold" was to bring its author into relation with young men throughout the country and 248 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER wherever the English language is spoken. Indeed, proposals were made for its translation into Marathi and (in excerpts) into Armenian. At Paris, in 1891, as Dr. and Mrs. Hunger lingered after the service in the American Chapel, a stranger asked an introduc- tion, saying: "You do not know me, but I know you. I am a bookseller in Australia. I have sold hundreds of copies of your 'On the Threshold' and I mean to sell hundreds more." In England especially there was high appreciation of Munger's advice to young men, and reminders never ceased throughout his life of the help and inspiration he had given to the coming generation. And the relations thus begun often proved lasting. Munger's book simply reflected a personality which attracted young men because itself attracted by them. As a college preacher at Williams College, Cornell, Yale, and Harvard, Mimger was appreciated because his heart went out to his hearers — a quality whose lack in college pulpits can be made good by no other. At his home in New Haven he was visited constantl}^ by students who had read "On the Threshold," and those who came found not mere sympath}^ and advice, but a readiness to render tire- less service. We maj^ surmise that it was this favorable recep- tion and the extensive sale of Munger's first book that PASTOR AND TEACHER 249 led to the publication in 1883 of a companion volume of addresses to a still younger class. This little book was entitled "Lamps and Paths," and in the first edition contained only the eight addresses made by the pastor to the children of his church at the annual services in June of each j^ear especially devoted to their needs. In a second edition printed in 1884, four chapters were added to make it "a fit prelude to 'On the Threshold.' " Of the grace of style and wisdom of content which characterized these little books, their wide and long- continued sale furnishes some evidence; but a better attestation, and one doubtless even more acceptable to the author, was the assurance received from those best qualified to judge of the merit and value of the work. Among many such we shall quote but one — a letter from the venerable Quaker poet ending as follows : Thy little book "Lamps and Paths" is a fitting companion of "On the Threshold." I find both are cordially welcomed. If one half of the weak and unhealthy books for young peo- ple in Sabbath school hbraries could be cast out as worse than worthless, and in their place these two volumes sub- stituted, I should have far better hope for the young and rising generation than now I have. I am very truly thy friend, John G. Whittier. 250 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER "On the Threshold" and "Lamps and Paths" may be taken as representing Hunger's practical contri- bution to the cause so dear to Bushnell of Christian Nurture. But neither book represented his real aspi- ration. The year of the publication of "Lamps and Paths" (1883) had already witnessed the appearance of another volume which embodied the product of former years of thought recast for Hunger's Berk- shire parish. This second volume had indeed been first in intention, and its predecessor owed its prior appearance in the field only to its more primary char- acter. As a business venture, "On the Threshold" was a much safer risk than "The Freedom of Faith." It involved less care and labor. But it was the latter volume which first revealed the author's calibre, and in it he made his chief contribution to the progress of Christian thought. Years before, Hulford, who owed so much to his friend in the preparation of his own magnum opus, had urged Hunger to publish some of his sermons, on which, as he knew, immense labor had been lavished. Hulford's great idea of "The Nation" as a moral organism was no sooner before the public than his mind set to work upon a kindred ecclesiastical problem. The question of civil reconstruction had called forth his first great book. The need of recon- PASTOR AND TEACHER 251 struction in the church, so rent by sects, so fettered in thought, as to be scarcely conscious of either catho- licity or continuity, called forth in 1881 its counter- part, "The Republic of God, an Institute of The- ology." As before, Mulford brought the manuscript to his friend in North Adams for final revision; but ten years earlier, while JMunger was still at the begin- ning of his pastorate in Lawrence, he had written : I often think we are close to an age of great theology: not only of light, but of light on the relation of men to each other, and to the world which is made manifest through the relation of men to God. The part which might fall to his friend in this devel- opment of a "new theology" Mulford indicates in the judgment he pronounced in March, 1872, on a sermon submitted to his criticism: "It is the only sermon I ever read which gives me hope of a New Theologj^ here." It was not, then, by accident that "The Free- dom of Faith" came to be regarded as representative of the New Theology, and took its place alongside "The Republic of God." When its wide circulation in England seemed to call for some statement to English readers regarding the personal history of its author. Dr. E. P. Parker of Hartford introduced him to the readers of The Christian World of London, 252 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER justly declaring the book to be "no happy accident or lucky hit, but the ripe fruit of a studious life and a laborious ministry." As a friend of Bushnell's, Dr. Parker might be pardoned for adding that Munger was a "Bushnellite" and a pupil of Nathaniel W. Taylor. He also noted the significant fact that "The Freedom of Faith" appeared almost simultaneously with three other works of no small significance to the- ology by professors at Yale. The three in question were Prof. George P. Fisher's "Grounds of Theis- tic and Christian Belief," Prof. Samuel Harris's "Philosophical Basis of Theism," and Prof. George T. Ladd's "The Doctrine of Sacred Scripture." Hunger's painstaking study and his self-develop- ment in the art of sermon writing had indeed reached in 1878 the point where it was reasonable to expect for them a wider influence. Since his coming to North Adams, the local newspaper, The Transcript, edited by the high-minded Judge James T. Robinson, had printed many of them in full, and readers had welcomed them. In this printed form Hunger sub- mitted them to his more intimate friends. It is in reply to this request for his judgment on the question of attempting publication that Hulford writes under date April 4, 1878: PASTOR AND TEACHER 253 My dear Friend: Yesterday M drove over to see me. I had sent him two numbers — all I had by me of the series — one on "Immor- tality," and one on "Christ's Treatment of Death." So I give you the conversation. "Mr. Munger will bring the whole series into a book.'*" said M . "Do you think they would justify that.''" said I. "Most certainly. The sermon on Immortality is one of the greatest I have ever read. It would take its place among the greatest of modem sermons. I was myself so impressed by it that on Sunday evening, with a brief preface, I read the whole sermon to my congregation. It was very closely followed and made a strong impression. . . . What an exceptional literary faculty he has. How old is he.''" "Some way beyond forty." "It is time he began to garner his wheat." In spite of this advice from an unprejudiced source, Munger still refrained. Other advice came in similar strain, including that of Scudder; but, as we have seen, Munger's first attempt at book-making did not include his more serious efforts, but consisted of the series of addresses to young men. Only after he had proved his powers in these did the writer make his appeal to the attention of maturer minds. Titles were discussed with Scudder, the final form being of 254 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER his suggestion, and the vohime was prefaced by an introductory essay on "The New Theolog3\" Title and essay were both amply justified. The appearance of the book at once placed the author among the foremost spokesmen of the progressive Congregational pulpit. Its nucleus was formed by five discourses on Immortality and Resurrection, expanding and developing the address at Pacific Theo- logical Seminary already summarized. Doctrinally its contribution to theological thought was simply a restatement in modern terms of the beliefs pertaining to the destiny of the soul. After the prefatorj^ essay on "The New Theology" followed a series of seven- teen sermons, of which the first was "On the Reception of New Truth," and the last nine on various aspects of the hope of eternal life. They were not theological. As Parker concisely put it, the author "belonged more to Literature than to Dogma." The entire series illustrated in the noblest way the method of the "modern" preacher in contrast with the mere expounder of inherited doctrine. Reality, not authority, was its distinctive note. The style had the clearness and charm attainable only by years of dis- cipline, and not even then if natural capacity be wanting. Best of all, there was the deep undertone of heartfelt sympathy and devotion, the love of God PASTOR AND TEACHER 255 and man. It was apparent that the New Theology of which men had talked since Bushnell's day had found its way into the New England pulpit, and was worthily represented there. But the chief signifi- cance of the book was the insight which it gave into the author's method of thought; for this was really typical of the New Theology, and gave meaning to the claim of "freedom" for the author's faith. The method applied by Munger in stating before the North Adams Council his hope for the redemption of souls was a method based upon Robertson's principles of teaching. It rested especially upon the first and third: "Establishment of positive truth instead of negative destruction of error," and "Truth should be taught suggestively, not dogmatically." A construct- ive method has been apparent in Munger's state- ment to the council. In discussing the question of judgment to come he had sought to penetrate at once to the element of indispensable value in the traditional doctrine. Denying authority to any merely temporary interpretation, he had reclothed the simple principle of retribution in a form suitable to modern times, just as previously it had been clothed in forms suitable to earlier ages. The same constructive method was now fearlessly applied in wider scope. The doctrines of immortality, of the resurrection, of judgment, were 256 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER analyzed to differentiate the nucleus of permanent moral and religious value from its transitory- embodi- ments. The vital principle once clearly stated was "clothed upon" with modern modes of conception, gathered from wide reading in philosophy, literature, and science. There was perfect "freedom," because the substance of the faith was held in joyful, whole- souled conviction. Historic continuity was under- stood not as cumulative dogma, progressively narrow- ing the field of permissible development, but as fidelity to type, each generation and individual having right of appeal direct to the sources. Scripture was not used merely as a rule of faith and practice, but in a true Protestant sense and defensively as the only rule. The post-reformation dogmatists of the seventeenth century in their zeal for system-building too soon forgot that the "protest" of their fathers had been a protest against the imposition of what was not in Scripture. It had been a protest against the imposi- tion of any yoke not indispensable to the historic faith ; not a plea for a return from the yoke of priest and prelate to the yoke of the scribe. The dogma- tists seemed to think that Luther said: Scripture teaches so and so, therefore we are exempted, or even precluded, from forming our own opinion. The Xew Theolog}% as interpreted and illustrated by men of PASTOR AND TEACHER 257 Munger's type, returned to Scripture not as a limi- tation, but as an enlargement and incentive to modern thought. They were "strict constructionists" of the Protestant constitution, holding to a principle of "reserved rights." The right of private judgment is not curtailed by inferences successively deduced from Scripture by the system-makers. It is limited only by what the Scriptures themselves clearly, undeniably, and positively affirm as essential to faith and practice. The assertion that Scripture is the only rule is therefore a doctrine of "freedom" in historical continuity of faith. The New Theology evinced itself as "Protestant" by its application of the Protestant principle to the emancipation of mind and conscience. It evinced itself as evolutionary by its adoption of John Robinson's famous saying about growing light. Interpretation of Scripture had begun to be historical. Dogma henceforth would be not static, but dynamic. The reception given the book by press and public, by ecclesiastic, layman, and theologian, proved from the outset that the New Theology represented in it had come to stay. No system had yet been developed. It had not yet been determined beyond peradventure whether the Congregationalists were prepared to admit that Congregationalism had catholicity enough 258 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER to tolerate this mode of thought. But the reception accorded the book on both sides of the Atlantic proved that the leaven was working in tens of thou- sands of open minds. To what high places it had access its author never knew. In the recent aiito- biograplty of Bishop Boyd Carpenter, at one time private chaplain to Queen Victoria, we find the Queen's acknowledgment of the sending of Plunger's "Freedom of Faith." It was accompanied by another volume of kindred type by one soon to be a close col- league and friend of Munger in their adjoining churches on the old New Haven Green, Xewman Smyth's "Orthodox Theolog>^ of Today," and West- cott's "Revelation of the Risen Lord." The letters show that Hunger's sermons were to her bereaved heart most comforting of all. Windsor Castle, 13 May, 1884. I have been wishing to write to you for some time, to say how much (in spite of having hardly a moment to myself) I have been interested and encouraged and strengthened in reading some chapters of "The Freedom of Faith," by Munger. Later we hear : I read what you marked of Professor Westcott, which is striking, but not to me like Newman Smyth's and Munger's wonderful books. . . . PASTOR AND TEACHER 259 Bishop Carpenter's selection for the Queen's read- ing was an example of the widespread influence of the book. It found its way especially to the study table of many a non-conformist minister, and not only to the minister's table, but into the homes of his parishioners and the reading pubhc, bringing to its author sheaves of appreciative letters. Even had it been conceivable that the conservative element among Congregationalists should rest satis- fied with the reversal at North Adams of the decision of the Indian Orchard Council, a volume such as "The Freedom of Faith," however irenic in tone and pur- pose, would be sure to have its effect in hastening some sort of crisis in Congregationalism. Indeed, Munger's case was only representative. The par- ticular doctrine on which the issue happened in this case to be joined was by no means the real or funda- mental one at stake. To the popular view, the real issue was still less apparent in the contemporary "Andover case," wherein the exclusion of Newman Smyth from a professorship, and the attempt to oust those in office, were supposed to hinge upon the possi- bility of "future probation" for "infants, idiots, and some heathen." More philosophic minds, such as that of George T. Ladd, at the date of the council stiU a Congregational pastor in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, per- 260 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER ceived that there was need primarily of a definition of The Doctrine of Sacred Scripture. Leonard Bacon of New Haven, the leading authority on Congrega- tional polity, appreciated its deeper bearing on the problem of fellowsliip versus Hberty, and warned against the growing disposition toward denomina- tional exclusiveness, which now made necessary a restatement of Congregational principle. "The true issue," as he conceived it, was a question of catholicity. Two leading organs of Congregational opinion, The Congregationalist in Boston, and The Independent in New York, took opposite sides in the struggle. The Congregationalist sent out a list of questions to a hun- dred leading clergymen of the denomination to ascer- tain, on the principle that majorities must rule, whether certain doctrines specified ought to be toler- ated "in the denomination." Other supporters of the sectarian view secured the introduction into the Ver- mont State Conference, through the agency of the honored Dr. Geo. L. Walker, of resolutions aiming to secure an exodus from the "denomination" of all min- isters not in sympath}^ with its "historic" creeds. The same party, convinced that the orthodoxy of Congre- gationalism was in danger, secured the appointment of a large and representative committee at the National Council of 1881, charged with the duty of formulat- PASTOR AND TEACHER 261 ing a creed. The reactionaries went even beyond this and did not scruple to employ the machinery of the great missionary board, founded indeed by Congre- gationalists, but never hitherto sectarian, in the inter- est of their own interpretation of orthodoxy. Candi- dates for missionarj'- service, otherwise amply qualified and readj^ to accept, besides the great catholic creeds, statements of belief honored by the fathers of Congre- gationalism, were required to give assent to a special form of creed prepared to define orthodoxy as under- stood by the party in control. On the other hand, broad-minded men like Wash- ington Gladden and Amory H. Bradford stemmed the tide of creed-making by showing its incompati- bility with the spirit and history of Congregationalism both at home and abroad. They proved the whole process of denominational narrowing down to be a recent and self-destructive innovation. The history of the movement against the New The- ology in the Congregational churches with its various phases in ordination and installation councils, and in the administrative machinery of Andover Seminary and the American Board of Foreign Missions, re- mains to be written. Munger's portion in it, as he himself fully realized, was not so much creative as rep- resentative. He was a typical New England minis- 262 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER ter of the "progressive" school. Could he, or could he not, be tolerated? It is interesting, in view of subse- quent developments, to turn back to his own confi- dential report of the proceedings of the council at his installation, written to JNIulford before daylight on the morning following. North Adams, Decembek 12, 1877. My dear Friend: Thanks for your letter and its suggestions. I followed them, prefacing my Statement yesterday with assent to the two creeds [Apostles' and Nicene]. I write by gas light in the morning. I have just seen Pres. Porter off by the 7 o'clock train. My family are not yet up, as yesterday was a very fatiguing day to them. I had all the clergymen and three laymen to dinner — sixteen in all, I believe. We may omit the report of the public proceedings and come to the inner history. . . . Since writing the above I have seen Jenkins and Gladden. I find that the laymen — two or three — and one minister expressed the purpose to vote against me, and quite a current began to set in that direction. Pres. Hopkins merely dissented from one or more points in metaphysics — theologically he was in sympathy, or at least grandly toler- ant. After several had said they should vote against me, Pres. Porter took up the matter and made a fine speech of great power and cogency on toleration. He told these men PASTOR AND TEACHER 263 that if they voted against me it must be on the ground of my ministerial unfitness, and that they would be bound to give their reasons and stand by them. Such was also the point of view of Dr. Leonard Bacon, after The Congregationalist had endeavored to adjust the matter to its conception of "denomi- national" doctrine. Under the caption "The True Issue," in The Congregationalist for December 26, 1877, he stated what he conceived to be the question fundamentally at stake, a question that would not down till "settled right." Referring to the circular of inquiry and its responses he pointed out that they seem to regard the question (whether the doctrines speci- fied should or should not be tolerated) as relating not to churches as belonging to Christ, but to churches as belong- ing to "the Congregational denomination," and some of them seem to imply (perhaps unconsciously) that a minister objectionable in that regard to us Congregationalists, may nevertheless be a good minister if he will go to some other denomination. Allow me, then, to say that the issue thus presented is not, in my humble opinion, the true issue. The question on which some of our young men are becoming unsettled in judgment is not, "What is the doctrine of 'our denomination' concerning the life to come?" It is rather, "What is the 264 THEODORE THORNTON IVIUNGER truth? — what do the Scriptures teach? — what is the teaching of our Lord?" ;Most weighty, from such a source, was the distinc- tion between Congregational and Presb3i;erian polity on this question : In the Presbyterian denomination it would be, perhaps, enough to say, the Westminster Assembly of divines settled all those questions more than two hundred years ago ; and our church has settled them for us by adopting the stand- ards, from which, if we deviate, we must go to some other denomination. But Congregationalism from the days of John Robinson, has been "ver}-^ confident that the Lord has more truth and light yet to break forth out of his holy word" ; and the covenant of every Congregational church is, either expressly or by implication, like thfit of the Pil- grims at Scrooby, at Leyden, and at Plymouth, "whereby," said Robinson, "we promise and covenant ^rith God and with one another, to receive whatever light or truth shall be made known to us from his written word." Such was indeed the inner and saving principle of Congregationalism, destined to redeem it from the fetters of sectarianism and to prove that it has both catholicity and continuity. But the struggle was no brief one. During all the eight years of INIunger's pastorate at North ^Vdams it was approaching a new outbreak. Echoes of the PASTOR AND TEACHER 265 storm continued to rumble and were evoked afresh as new contributions appeared not from Hunger's pen alone, but from many another champion of the New Theology. The issue was gradually reduced to clearer form and recognized as involving far more than a mere theory of retribution in the world to come. Like most theological controversies, it led back inevitably to the question of authorit5^ Account would need to be taken of the new science of biblical criticism; for the ultimate appeal of the Protestant churches is to Scripture, and enquiry into the origin and nature of the biblical writings was fast rendering obsolete the old-fashioned, dogmatic interpretation, and enforcing the historical. The Scotch and English free churches were beginning to be aroused over the teachings of W. Robertson Smith, a far greater critic than Colenso. Three years more would witness the appearance of his "Old Testament in the Jewish Church," soon to be followed by "Prophets of Israel" and the biblical arti- cles in the ninth edition of the "Encyclopaedia Britan- nica." It was not long before the churches in America were to be stirred by the new views of the Mosaic writ- ings championed by William R. Harper at Yale and the case of Professor Briggs at Union Seminary. But as yet there was little indication of the true storm centre. Ladd's "Doctrine of Sacred Scripture" was 266 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER too massive and recondite for general circulation. In Yale Divinity School Leonard Bacon, Fisher, and Harris were still carrying on in broad and catholic spirit the traditions of Edwards, Dwight, and Taylor. The time was not far off when Hunger himself, elected a member of the Yale Corporation distinctly as a representative of the New Theology, would liave a share in the changes which were to give to historical criticism of the biblical writings a recognized place in the curriculum both of the Divinitj^ School and the University. JNIunger was to find himself a colleague and close friend of Newman Smyth, one of those earliest to recognize the primary importance of the question of Scriptural authority, a central figiu'e in the group destined to bring it into its true perspec- tive. Meantime, it is interesting to record his appre- ciation of the significance of his own case in the hurrying tide of events. To Mulford he writes on Christmas day, 1877: It is decidedly a novel experience to sit silent among these hills and see the leaven I cast into the lump working so thoroughly. So far it has been straight and simple work. My statement has been commonly understood as a protest against external, governmental theories of penalty, and of immoral theology generally. . . . One thing in the present drift rather alarms me. I fear there is going to be a run PASTOR AND TEACHER 267 of the English notions of annihilation. It is the result of severe exegesis combined with the Darwinian doctrine of survival. Is it not a strange combination? ... I know that it is utterly and absolutely opposed to all your thought in theology and philosophy. And a thorough treatment of it in your book would be most timely. ... I wrote a sermon last week on Romans viii. 20, 21, working up the same point you suggest — that hope is the great gift of God, and that it more than balances the subjection to vanity, i.e., evil. In it is to be found the solution of the existence of evil. But we must turn from these echoes of theological conflict to the simple annals of Hunger's Berkshire parish. Shortly after his coming the church built, on plans approved by himself, a new parsonage, from whose study windows he could look out over the pic- turesque valley to the majestic slopes and preci- pices of Greylock. This became the home of the family, increased now by the birth of a daughter, Mary Elizabeth Wilhs, and in 1883 of a son, Thorn- ton Taf t. Resources were now somewhat ampler ; for in its growth the church had not failed to increase its pastor's salary, and the sale of books soon added very materially to this income. Thus there could be freer intercourse with friends in Boston and New York and greater enjoyment of the delights of hos- pitality. Of old friends, Jenkins at Pittsfield was 268 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER close at hand; Mrs. Baker, still active, came for long and greatly appreciated visits. Mulford and Scud- der, as we have seen, found their way promptly to the North Adams parsonage, and were by no means alone among the associates of earlier years. Hunger's frequent trips to New York included visits to Taft, Carpenter, and his brother-in-law, Robert Harris. Among more recent friends there were Gladden at Springfield, and President Carter and ex-President Mark Hopkins at Williamstown. In Boston and its neighborhood there was also the choice circle of the Winthrop Club ; in Andover Prof. Joseph Henry Thayer; in New Haven President Porter and George P. Fisher. Besides, there were in North Adams itself men and women whom to know was a privilege and uplift. Of such were his loyal sup- porters in the church. Deacon James Hunter, and Judge James T. Robinson, whom Munger reckoned with that "group of Massachusetts' statesmen" who in the nation's crisis "saved the Union, not by blindly following ideals, but by practical wisdom, whicli is the ideal of idealism." Munger's nature was of a type to cling loyally to friends of earlier years, while ever enlarging the circle. The abundant correspond- ence still preserved shows how richly the opportunity was appreciated on both sides. PASTOR AND TEACHER 269 Especially did his publications bring him into contact with many a choice spirit seeking its kind. In the summer of 1883, through Gladden as a mutual friend, Richard Watson Gilder, editor of The Cen- tury Magazine expressed his desire for acquaintance, asking a further contribution to the magazine : . . . The article of yours we did pubKsh was one of the most acceptable essays we have had the privilege of printing — one of the most memorable, I may say. Your new book (The Freedom of Faith) has been my companion this summer. I do not wish to exaggerate, but it has (in con- nection with other similar reading, and as culmination of the latter) had a very unusual effect upon my mind, and I feel somewhat like writing the old-fashioned letter of thanks. As there is nothing peculiar about "my mind" — in other words, as it doubtless is in much the same state as that of myriads of others of my own age and tastes — reared in the old-fashioned orthodoxy, but disgusted with its lies — and tinged with the modern skeptical tone, yet clinging to the old for its essential truth, its power to vi^^fy, and its satis- fying implications — as I say, my own mind is only one of a larger class, I am sure there must be many who owe you a heavy debt of gratitude, and who yet are silent. Sometime I should like to say what has occurred to me on some of these subjects, to see whether the thoughts have any worth or novelty. 270 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER Concerning Immortality, when I was in Concord lately, I was told by a friend of Emerson's that at a "conversation" there he expressed himself strongly as believing in personal immortality. His friend drew him out on the subject; he repeated and insisted, but did not argue. He never argued. Do you remember Whitman's " If maggots and rats ended us — then Alarum ! for we are betray'd !" . . . But lest I should bore you with matters trite to you, I will keep to my editorial function, and beg that you will not forget that you are a contributor — and are in sincere demand. Very respectfully, R W. Gilder. Of the many letters of spontaneous appreciation of Munger's books which opened the way for new friendships and interchange of thought we can add but one. It was from one of the most distinguished divines and ablest scholars of the Episcopal Church, Prof. A. V. G. Allen of the Divinity School in Cam- bridge, Mass. Cambridge, May 16, 1883. My dear Mr. Munger: I feel impelled to write to you, and to thank you for your book. I was prepared to welcome it by what had been told me beforehand by Dr. Mulford, but the half had not been PASTOR AND TEACHER 271 told. I do not know when I have read a book that has done me so much good. I took it up as a theological study, but I soon found it was something more and higher than that, and that I was being reached by the printed sermon as I had not been reached or moved since the old days when Robertson of Brighton came to me Hke a revelation. These sermons surpass Robertson, or any sermons that I have read, because they meet the experience and the want of another generation, that has taken a long stride forward, that is perplexed by new difficulties, and vaster necessities. To me they seem to contain the deepest philosophy of life, they adjust and solve the hardest problems, they take into account, Hke a sensitive barometer, the most subtle influences that now affect thoughtful minds. And it is all done with so much apparent ease and such an exceedingly beautiful style, that one hardly knows which to admire most, the thought, or its exquisite setting. ***** With such books as this before the world one is tempted to feel that the alienation of thoughtful men from Christian- ity is already overcome in its inward principle, and that the Church is on the eve of achieving a greater victory than in the age of Constantine. I am with great respect and esteem Sincerely yours, A. V. G. Allen. The recognition that Munger had become a factor in the theological world came in the summer of 1883, 272 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER when Illinois College, one of the oldest institutions of the ^liddle West, founded by a band of home missionary pioneers from Yale and dehghting still to call itself "the Yale of the West," honored Hunger and itself by bestowing on him the degree of D.D. It was the first of a series of kindred honors. Faith- ful parish work both as pastor and preacher was having its effect on JNIunger's reputation bej^ond the Berkshire Hills, and the result was so fitting as to seem almost foreordained. In 1884, two of the oldest and strongest churches of New Haven combined to form the United Church, and naturally sought a pastor worthy of the New Haven succession. When in 1885 their choice fell upon Hunger none save the theological reactionaries could dispute its wisdom. In every respect, whether as pastor, preacher, civic leader, or cultured man of letters, it would have been impossible to name one better qualified for a ministry in such a community and under the shadow of Yale. Horeover, while the eight years of fruitful service in North Adams had greatly endeared INIimger to that whole community, making his uprooting a sorrow on both sides, still it was frankly and fully recognized that sentiment ought not to prevail in such a case over sober judgment. The remaining years of Hunger's life — and he was now approacliing his PASTOR AND TEACHER 273 fifty-sixth year — if they were to attain their fullest scope and efficiency, would unquestionably be more wisely spent in New Haven than in North Adams. With reluctance, but in a spirit of overflowing good will and thankfulness for the eight years of service, Hunger's people in North Adams joined with repre- sentatives of the town and civic institutions in a fare- well and God-speed. His letter of resignation was read by Rev. Mr. Denison of Williams College, with whom Munger had exchanged. His farewell sermon was preached to a crowded congregation on the even- ing of November 15, on the topic, "Man a Stranger in the Earth." We may take from the North Adams Transcript's report a few sentences illustrative of the feeling of the community : It was a fitting and impressive parting message to his people and vividly condensed and emphasized the teachings of his eight years of memorable and splendid service. His work in this village has been remarkable for its steady growth, power, and influence. He grew with his work and every year his sermons have increased in strength, beauty, and fascination. . . . He recognized also the intelligence, the energy, the liberal spirit and warm heart of this pro- gressive and prosperous community, and he labored to give this people his highest thoughts, and his deepest con- victions, . . . Above all he was manly and brave, tender and 274 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER true. A man stood behind the words and charged them with life and power. He had no fear of man or majorities or clamors or opinions, but spoke what he saw and believed with tranquil courage and delightful eloquence. He provoked no controversy, engaged in no disputes, uttered no sarcasms, indulged in no mockery — "the fume of little hearts" ; but preached straight to the hearts of men, bringing Hght, beauty, hope, cheer, and warnings, and using history, litera- ture, poetry, scholarship, life's experience and training as aids to his main purpose — the proclamation of the truth. . . . His work here has been an education and permanent illumination. He has changed the tone and the thinking of all this region and created a taste for the best thought and manner. He has become a leader in that vast and slow, but genuine modification of religious behef which now confronts some of the old forms and creeds. CHAPTER IX CHURCH BUn.DING New Haven^ United Church, 1885-1900 In accepting the call of the United Church in New Haven, Miinger was aware that he was taking up the final service of his life. The needs of his family were a motive, but his own now fully ripened powers were called for in wider, more enduring service to the church catholic. By ancestry and conviction, as well as by the vicissitudes of his ministerial life, he was fitted for service in the development of Congrega- tionalism. To the working out of its "continuity and catholicity" he had loyally committed himself. No lesser reasons would have sufficed to uproot him from the happy relations of his Berkshire parish. Theo- logical controversy would inevitably be renewed. Opponents of the New Theology had just failed in their attempt to prevent the installation of Newman Smyth. They would seize with avidity a new oppor- tunity so conspicuous. Many of Munger's friends, conscious of the issue, confident both in the cause of liberalism and in its champion, wrote to urge his 276 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER acceptance. They were pleased with the concentra- tion of men of this type in the ancient seat of New England theolog}% and looked for its revival. A very few, less well acquainted with the man, knowing of the organized opposition, wrote to dissuade him. The vote of the church in extending the call had shown an opposing minority of about one third the membership present, though this had been brought to a maximum by organized effort, while those who favored the call had taken no such measures. Ecclesiastical politics were thus already making their unwelcome appear- ance. But Munger gave it slight consideration. Eight years before he had deliberately challenged the issue before an installing council partially com- mitted against the principle of the freedom of the pulpit. He could of course still be counted on to do battle against the reactionaries if loyalty to the prin- ciples of Congregationalism required it. But it was in no controversial spirit that he viewed the situation ; nor did questions of ecclesiastical politics occupy in his mind a place to be compared in importance with the immediate, constructive interests of the parish to whose upbuilding he was to devote the remainder of his days. The sermon preached on the Sunday following the installation (November 19, 1885) was repeated on CHURCH BUILDING 277 the eleventh anniversary, with a few prefatory words. An extract from these will show the spirit that controlled it. The sermon was written in North Adams, just before coming here, and its tone was as remote from that of the installing council and its adjuncts, as the clear winds that blow from Greylock are unhke those easterly gales that creep in from the Sound, laden with blinding fog and chilling dampness. It must have been a special providence that led me to write the sermon there rather than here ; for thus I was not tempted to break a resolution — never yet broken, I think — not to utter a word controversially in reply to attacks on my theological opinions. . . . Perhaps it was because the sermon happened to strike a higher range of thought than that made prominent at the Council, that the latter was soon forgotten, and the church itself took its place in the minds of the people. The sermon was indeed a typical application of the first of the six principles adopted from Robertson, "The establishment of positive truth, instead of the negative destruction of error." Its text was from Revelation xxi. 13: "On the east three gates; and on the north three gates; and on the south three gates ; and on the west three gates." The symmetry of the New Jerusalem was made the type of the per- 278 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER feet ehureh of God. The preacher applied the ideal to the institution wliich had called him to be its leader, and defined its relations as an organized embodiment of the spirit of Christ. These relations were twofold : ( 1 ) "To the churches and the whole community about it" and (2) "to the Christian ages." The Puritan minister had come to believe that the "cathohcity and continuity" whose appeal had once nearly carried him into the ranks of the Episcopal Broad-church movement, would be won more surely and lastingly under the free and plastic forms of New England church democracy. In the building of the Church that is not first which is material but that which is spiritual, and afterward that which is material. By request of the congregation the sermon was published together with the statement of belief read before the installing council. The contrast of this statement with that given at North Adams is also sig- nificant. No trace remains of conflict over any special issue. Under the eight heads of I. God, II. Man, III. The Scriptures, IV. The Atonement, V. Regenera- tion and the Work of the Spirit, VI. Penalty, VII. Judgment, Heaven and Hell, VIII. The Church, a simple, constructive, and rational theologj'- is outlined. The beliefs were presented "not as mere matters of speculation, nor as formal dogmas, nor as constituting THE UNITED CHURCH, NEW HAVEN CHURCH BUILDING 279 a system of theology ; but rather as truths of personal experience." As an example of their concise and lucid statement, strongly affirmative and yet unpro- vocative, we may take the single article entitled "Judgment, Heaven and Hell." Judgment is a continuous process, and is merciful and not doom-like — being a gracious separation between good and evil. It is therefore represented as the office of the Christ. The conception of it as continuous is not exclusive of a final judgment. I believe that heaven is oneness with God and that hell is separation from God ; and I protest against locahzing conceptions that break the force of these supreme, central, and practical truths. There were other reasons besides the desire to avoid ecclesiastical controversy that helped to determine Munger's constructive and irenic attitude. Infor- mation had been frankly laid before him by Judge Simeon E. Baldwin, as representative of the church, concerning the opposition to his theological views. Judge Baldwin was widely known as one of the lead- ing legal minds of the country and his advice that the opposition be disregarded justified his reputation for judicial shrewdness. It was gladly accepted and followed. But simultaneously there had come other and sadder news. 280 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER Hunger's thought during the needless ordeal he was compelled to undergo was kept on higher things. A great vision of the upbuilding of the Church effaced the petty quarrels over points of dogma. All his preparation for the council and the beginning of his new work had been made under the shadow of a message from Cambridge that Mulford, the com- panion of his mind, his honored, loved interpreter of life and duty, was stricken with incurable disease. In October, 1885, he writes to Mrs. Baker: I am today overwhelmed with grief by news in regard to the health of Dr. Mulford. Dr. Wyman and his brother, S. Mulford, M. D., of New York, pronounce him incurably ill with Bright's disease. I cannot bear it. It comes closer to me than almost anything that could happen. We are very unlike, but there is the profoundest sympathy between us and the deepest affection on each side. To Scudder he writes shortly after the council : New Haven, December 5, 1885. My dear Friend : Your kind letter fills me with sadness, or rather deepens a feeling I steadily have had since Mulford's illness became known. Perhaps my own life was never more happy externally — there is everything now to make it so — but the shadow of CHURCH BUILDING 281 this dreadful illness is never absent. ... I am also sorely perplexed. My impulse is to go to him, but it may not be best. . . . I am very sure that Mulford in his inmost thought is living in God, and even in a very great degree, but this has come to him suddenly and in the midst of his days ; the disease itself is the most depressing. The question is how to minister to him. Death came but a few days later and Munger, after taking part in the burial services at Concord, wrote further to Mrs. Baker: My dear Mrs. Baker: You know, of course, of all that has happened in Cam- bridge — how suddenly our friend was snatched away, and how his funeral took place on Saturday, with burial at Concord. It is to me a grievous trial. Necessarily my thoughts the last month have been fixed on my own matters, but hardly for a moment has he been out of my mind. As I stood before the council and heard the petty questions that were put to me I thought of him and his great ideas, and felt almost an indifference to what was going on around me. Indeed, if there had been anything to pain me in recent experiences it would have been lost in the thought of him as he was drawing nigh to death. I would rather have his approval than that of any council I have ever had to stand before. 282 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER The organized opposition in the council had been able to muster but six votes on the final roll-call. They came, as Munger reported to Scudder, "two from laj^men, one from an antediluv^ian, one from a sensational preacher, one from a revivalist, and one from John Todd, who cannot be classified." Todd's opposition, as coming from an old-time friend, how- ever erratic in character and reactionary in ecclesi- astical matters, was peculiarly painful. When, years after, its author expressed his keen regret, and did all in his power to show his change of feeling, it gave Munger deep satisfaction. He notes with relief that "The theological faculty were all with me." The opposition had indeed small weight with men of the calibre of Harris and Fisher. Leonard Bacon had died in 1881, but President Porter proved him- self in this council, as before at North Adams, a firm and effective ally, taking his stand on the "fitness of the candidate." Later accessions to the Divinity Faculty, such as William Rainey Harper, George Barker Stevens, and Frank Chamberlain Porter, were to change the attitude of toleration into active co-operation. Hunger's election to the Yale Cor- poration in 1887 was greeted by men such as Thayer, now of Harvard Divinity School, and Principal C. F. P. Bancroft of Phillips-Andover, as a triumph of CHURCH BUILDING 283 liberalism. Henry L. Pierce of Boston wrote to congratulate his old friend on this election: "The hope of Congregationalism is with the group of which you are one." But Dr. J. M. Whiton, another friend of many years, had anticipated this. Writing in December, 1885, after the installation, he says: "I rejoice in your settlement close beside Smyth. While so much noise is made in the papers about Andover, the good cause grows at New Haven as silently as the corn." The comparison is justified. With the accession of Timothy D wight, the younger, in 1886, Yale became in name as it was in fact a university. In 1901 its church, founded in 1757, removed the creed drawn up by the first President Dwight from a posi- tion where it could be construed as a barrier to mem- bership, to one in which it served simply as a "testimony" to the historic Trinitarian Protestant faith of the brotherhood. It also explicitly re- nounced any denominational character, though con- tinuing to govern itself according to the Congrega- tional order. As respects the use of the creed, similar action had been long in preparation at the United Church, and was consummated shortly after. Ten years later still the First Church followed suit, thus placing the historic churches of New Haven in line 284 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER with many of the greatest and most enlightened of the Congregational order. Once more the covenant, not the creed, became the basis of fellowship. If Hunger's liberalizing influence was dominant in his own church and effective in the ecclesiastical affairs of the city, it was not small in matters pertain- ing to the university. As a member of its governing body he used it against the still surviving remain- ders of sectarian control, till with his own resignation in 1905 he proposed that the choice of life members should no longer he restricted to ministers from the State of Connecticut. He nominated as his successor a layman whose election secured general approval. Once and again his pen found employment in prob- lems of education. In 1887 it was an address before the Psi Upsilon Convention in Hartford on "The Relation of Education to Social Progress," published in The Century Magazine. The next year it was an article in the same magazine on "The University and the Bible," dealing with the difficult question of instruction, by scientific teachers, in unsectarian insti- tutions, on subjects long held in reserve as the special province of particular sects. In 1902 the problem of ministerial training called forth an article in The Outlook entitled "The Divinity School and the Uni- versity," which was later reprinted in pamphlet form. CHURCH BUILDING 285 Here Munger found opportunity to show his loyal faith in the school of Taylor and Bushnell. The occa- sion was timely. After just a centurj^ of separate existence, Andover Seminary was preparing to return to the academic shades of Harvard, whence it had departed to the isolation of Andover Hill in protest against the "liberalism" of the University. The example set by Andover had been followed throughout the country. The colonial ideal of univer- sity training for ecclesiastical service was renounced in favor of separate training schools, designated "seminaries," where each denomination could school its own teachers in its own denominational tenets, usually under the safeguard of elaborate and care- fullj^ worded creeds, to which all instructors must subscribe. Schism had free course and was glorified. Schools arose for Baptist ministers, Episcopal minis- ters, Presbyterian ministers, Methodist ministers, while Harvard itself, though honestly desirous of training simply ministers of Christ, and filling its divinity professorships in several instances with men such as Joseph Henry Thaj^er, not belonging to the Unitarian fold, came by force of analogy to be re- garded as a Unitarian school. Of all the colonial institutions only Yale remained substantially upon the old basis; but even in Connecticut, which had 286 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER escaped the Unitarian schism, the denominational spirit had borne fruit in the formation of a "Congre- gational" seminary at East Windsor (subsequently removed to Hartford), pledged under the strictest requirement of a specially formulated creed and of pastoral supervision, to resist the errors of Dr. Taylor and his successors at Yale. Hunger's brochure pointed out the suicidal results which must inevitably foUovr from this divorce of ministerial training from the broader culture of the university. The segrega- tion itself would be against the spirit of the fathers of Congregationalism, to say nothing of their abhor- rence of subscription to creeds. Their thought for the institutions they founded was that they should lead the Christian thought of successive generations. A "leadership" which must be always reluctantly yielding to its pressure was not their ideal. To theolog}^ as such Munger made no direct con- tributions. His service was practical rather than theoretic. But there is food for thought in the title given to a new volume of sermons published at the very beginning of his ministry in New Haven. Its name, "The Appeal to Life," shows that his mind had alread}'- instinctively moved toward that unassail- able basis of authority, to which the Xew Theology gravitates. The weakness of Calvinism is its rigid CHURCH BUILDING 287 adherence to an imperfectly Christianized doctrine of sacred Scripture. "The letter killeth." It is "the life," the life of God in the spirit of man shining through the letter, which "is the light of men." The biblical writings do not in themselves contain eternal life. They witness to it. Such is the distinction placed in the mouth of Jesus by the greatest of his interpreters, the author of the Fourth Gospel, who takes up the protest of Paul against written authority and carries it to its logical issue. In a colloquy be- tween Jesus and his opponents, the scribes (John v. 38-40) , he sets their authority, Moses' law, in contrast with the unwritten, inward testimony of the ever- living Spirit supremely manifest in Jesus Christ. The Jewish doctrine of sacred Scripture, inherited from the synagogue, cannot be called Christianized till it has taken in this distinction, and searches the Scrip- tures, not as containing eternal life in themselves in the form of creeds to be believed and commandments to be observed, but as "bearing witness to" the incar- nate Word operative in the lives of men and nations, of Christ and of the Church. Biblical criticism, an outcome of the spirit of his- torical enquiry so characteristic of the nineteenth century, has entailed upon the Church this further reformation. The Christian "seat of authority" is 288 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER neither an infallible Church nor an infallible Bible, but an infallible Spirit of Truth, speaking both inwardly and in the recorded religious experience of the past. Germany has been largely the home of biblical criticism. But New England has its share in this movement toward the witness of the Spirit as the basis of authority. It has developed by reaction against the attempt to force the religious experience of our own time into the strait- j acket of the past.^ New England theologj^ starting from an attempted interpretation of individual religious experience in terms furnished by St. Paul and Augustine and Calvin, found itself face to face with the inevitable question of authority: In what sense is Scripture "the word of God"? Munger, the preacher, though no adept in biblical criticism, felt something of this revolt. His friend Thayer had written in 1883, a propos of Newman Smj^th's rejection at Andover, 1 Out of many examples one of the most instructive may be taken from the biography of a younger contemporary and friend of Munger with whom he had many points of sympathy. From Slattery's recent biography of Prof. A. V. G. Allen, p. 33, we take the following extract from a letter of young Allen to his father: "My chief obstacle in reli- gious thought is that in this crisis of Christianity I have discarded the inspiration of the Scriptures, and they only appear to me, as Maurice has expressed it, as 'phases or expressions of religious thought.' " Since Coleridge there had been Teachings out after this truer light from Scrij)- ture. It was "finding" men. CHURCH BUILDING 289 that his opponents had doubtless selected the doctrine of retribution as the ground of attack because it lies on the level of the comprehension and the interest of the average unprofessional mind. But the con- troversy which seems to be impending over the Presbyterian church, respecting the composition of the books of Moses, promises to bring discussion much nearer to the heart of the matter ; namely, the true nature and use of the Sacred Scriptures. It was the intuition of literary genius which led Munger to entitle his second volume "The Appeal to Life." The opening sermon is on "The Witness from Experience" and puts the matter as follows: There is no better conception of God than as a Being who contains within himself an eternal humanity. We are finding out that we cannot otherwise escape duaHsm, nor have a cosmos in the material world and a revelation in the moral world. For a revelation must have its basis and its method in a common nature and in common processes of thought and feeling; otherwise there are no avenues and no receptivity. Thus we know the revelation and determine its reahty, not by signs wrought, but by its accord with the general laws of our being and the instinctive feelings of our nature as they come out in the natural relations of life. We do not thus set ourselves over a revelation to determine it, but we put it beside human nature to see if it tallies with 290 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER it, if it says the same thing, if the molten metal of inspired truth fills the human mould, if the deep without calls to the deep within and is keyed to the same eternal note. Such is Hunger's doctrine of sacred Scripture. It is like an unconscious paraphrase of the Johannine: "The witness which I receive is not from man. . . . The works that I do bear witness of me. . . . And the Father which sent me, he hath borne witness of me. Ye have neither heard his voice at any time, nor seen his form. Ye have not his word abiding in you. . . . Ye search the scriptures, because ye think that in them ye have eternal life . . . and ye will not come unto me, that ye maj^ have life." From the third sermon on "Truth through and by Life" we take a few further M^ords : There is a marked avoidance by Christ of all methods of teaching except that of personal action. It is a characteris- tic that goes to the very foundations, and holds up the whole structure of Christianity. In this Christ is true to himself as the manifestation of God; for what do we know of God except by his works, and how shall Christ manifest God truly except by works? . . . We know no truth except by action. We can teach no vital truth except through the life. We cannot attain to the eternal joy except as we walk step by step in that path of actual duty and performance in which CHURCH BUILDING 291 he walked, who so gained its fulness and sat down at the right hand of the Father. Like its predecessors, this new collection of ser- mons passed through many editions and brought many expressions of appreciation. We may cite in particular that of a Pennsylvania critic for its com- parison of the author with some famous preachers: No one can read these discourses without feeling that in Dr. Hunger we have one of the strongest preachers the American pulpit has yet produced. In his distinctive char- acteristics he is unique. Beecher was more original, start- ling, often eccentric in his forms of expression: Dr. Storrs has a more luxuriant rhetoric ; Dr. John Hall puts more of his personal presence, force, magnetism into his speech; Phillips Brooks, too, owes more to his overwhelming flow of eloquence, and the direct and immediate effect of his pres- ence as well as his winning words. Dr. Munger while as classic in his style as Brooks, less ponderous than Hall, much purer and more concise than Storrs, and even more logical and refined than Beecher, while as original and humane, as profound and scholarly as any of them, yet does not owe the strength, the charm, the convincing and persuasive power of his sermons to any of these quaUties ; much less to the effect of liis personal presence, but solely or at least mainly, to the penetrating reasonableness of what he says. In reading his words, one thinks not of the man, nor even 292 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER of the music in his language, but only of the entire trueness of the truth which is being unfolded before us, brought into the plane of our vision, laid bare for us in all its reason- compeUing and hea^t-^vinning strength and beauty. Dr. Munger reminds me more of F. W. Robertson in these respects than any other preacher of whom I know. More welcome than public praise, however sincere, were the private assurances from strangers far off, as well as from friends at hand, of help received — a reward beyond all material gain. Yet the work had been wrought out in sore pain and bereavement. It was Dedicated to the memory of two friends, Elizabeth Dun- can Munger and Elisha Mulford, one the dearest, and in the dearest relation; the other the friend of my mind as well as my heart. Both have passed on since these pages were begun, into the presence of Him whom they served and loved while they were upon the earth. A large part of the year 1886 had been shadowed by Mrs. Munger's fatal illness and on Sunday, Octo- ber 3, the end came. The brief records of the diary, which show how tender had been the care lavished on the sufferer, conclude with the simple entry : A. M. Preached on Not Knowing the Times and Seasons. My dear wife died this day at 3.30. She was conscious up CHURCH BUILDING 293 to my going to church and expressed satisfaction at my going, and knew me on my return. Her end was peaceful. This is the birthday of Thornton, three years old. We were married twenty-two years ago, October 12, 1864. The funeral services in New Haven on October 5 were in charge of Professor Brastow of the Divinity School, assisted by President Dwight and Dr. George Bushnell, brother of the great Hartford divine, while Prof. J. H. Thayer took charge of those in Haverhill, where the interment took place. The coincidence of these dates with those of the memorable meeting of the American Board at Des Moines, Iowa, sufficiently explains why Munger did not attend. Under other circumstances this meeting, beyond any other Con- gregational convention, would have commanded his presence along with his friends, Vose and Jenkins, and the brothers, Egbert and Newman Smyth ; for it was on this occasion that for a second time Munger's championship of the cause of catholicity against the denominationalists had much to do with bringing the issue to determination. In the diary under Tuesday, September 28, we find the entry: "I prepared the letter to the Prudential Committee^ in the Hume case, Professor Brastow having drafted it. It was adopted at the meeting this evening. Dr. Geo. Bushnell pre- 2 Of the American Board. 294. THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER siding." The famous leader in the ^Nlarathi ^Mission in India, Robert Allen Hume, later decorated by- Queen Victoria with the Kaisir-y-Hind gold medal for his efficient service during the famine of 1902, was a member of the United Church. At home on furlough, he had made certain utterances regarding "the larger hope," which aroused the suspicions of the guardians of orthodoxy. The denominationalists in the churches, already successful in controlling the Andover Board of Visitors, were eager now to employ the machinery of the American Board to the same end. The home secretary. Dr. E. K. Alden, charged by the Prudential Committee with the examination of all candidates as to fitness, was entirely of their way of thinking. An exphcit declaration of the Board at its meeting in Salem, Mass., in 1871, declares that Neither this Board nor its Prudential Committee are in any sense a Theological Court to settle doctrinal points of belief, but a body instituted by the churches to make known the gospel of Christ among the heathen . . . and establish churches among them maintaining that faith, and that only, which is universally received by those Christian bodies whose agents they are.^ 3 The American Board remains one of the few survivals of Old Con- gregationalism in being still undenominational, although since its origi- nal formation Presbyterians and others have organized boards of their CHURCH BUn^DING 295 In spite of this, Dr. Alden construed his instruc- tions to include rejection of all candidates who should not conform to his definition of orthodoxy, however small the minority in which he might find himself. The twenty-five commissioners of the National Council of 1880 appointed to prepare a creed repre- senting the present-day belief of the Congregational churches had reported in 1883 as directed "not to this Council, but to the churches and to the world through the public press," a "Statement of Belief" intended "to carry such weight of authority as the character of the Commission and the intrinsic merit of their exposi- tion of truth may command." Three of the twenty- five commissioners declined to sign this document, one because of inability to attend the meetings, two, of whom Dr. Alden was one, because it failed adequately to represent their views in certain particulars. Dr. Alden considered his continuation in the office of home secretary a warrant for requiring all candidates for missionary service to measure up to this (to his mind) higher standard of orthodoxy. Certain printed for- mulae of belief of Dr. Alden's choosing were submitted to candidates for missionary service, testing them on ovm. Other boards, such as the Board of Home Missions, have yielded to the pressure of the denominationalists and changed their titles to include the sectarian designation "Congregational." The American Board is stiU "agent for Christian bodies" other than Congregationalists. 296 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER the special points of "the divine authority and inspira- tion of the Scriptures, the propitiatory sacrifice upon the cross, and the final judgment, the issues of which will be determined by the deeds done in the body." Dr. Alden by his own statement was unwilling "to admit that Presbj^terians were ahead of* Congrega- tionalists in soundness of faith," and hence not only rejected candidates otherwise unexceptionable who seemed to him to reflect the views of Andover, but even such as professed ignorance of or indifference to the Andover hypothesis, but refused to positively disavow it. In this category were included some of the choicest men of Yale Divinity School, rejected really for refusing to be intolerant. In pursuance of the same policy of using the agencies created by the churches to commit the "denomination" to a creedal standard "like the Presbyterians," the Prudential Committee by majority vote had gone to the length of refusing to return Dr. Hume to his work in India. It is to these acts of the home secretary and the Pru- dential Committee that reference is made in the fol- lowing extracts from the speech of Prof. Egbert C. Smyth at the Des Moines meeting" of the Board. * The term "ahead" refers to the reactionary leadership of "Princeton Theological Seminary," and is of course to be interpreted in a reverse sense as in certain types of races. 6 Reported in "The Great Debate: A Verbatim Report of the Discus- CHURCH BUILDING 297 I turn to another case [Mr. Morse] — a member of Yale Theological Seminary, having as high testimonials as I have almost ever heard presented before our Committee, the president of the Society of Inquiry® in that institution, commended by an association of ministers — the most con- servative of them joining in the recommendation — for his soundness in the faith of Christ, commended by Dr. Samuel Harris and by Prof. Geo. P. Fisher in earnest letters, and by the former in a subsequent appeal to the Committee. This man wanted to go to India, where our missions are almost at a standstill, and some of them in important locali- ties are almost at an end today for the lack of laborers. What is his statement.? "I am not prepared to affirm that aU those are lost who do not receive the gospel in this life. . . . All I mean with reference to the hypothesis of a second probation is that I do not know. Practically it affects neither my belief nor my preaching." After pointing out that the candidates had been rejected not for holding any objectionable beliefs, nor for questioning any of "the doctrines universally held by the churches sustaining the Board" (the offi- cial requirement), but solely for refusing to join the home secretary and the party represented by him in "putting into the Gospel what the Gospel itself does sion at the Meeting of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, Held at Des Moines, Iowa, October 7, 1886," Hough- ton & Mifflin, 1886, pp. 16f. 6 Corresponding to the "Student Volunteer" bands of today. 298 THEODORE THORNTON IMUNGER not contain, and what the creeds of Christendom have not put there," the speaker continued: You had a Commission comprising many of the most eminent men of our denomination to state what is the faith of the churches today. They discussed this question, and they purposely omitted the very declaration which has been made an absolute test of fitness to serve under this Board. So much so, that not when an applicant simply, but when a missionary of long standing [Hume], one of the brightest and one of the most trusted and revered and beloved of men on the roll of our missionaries, wanted to go out to take up his work, which had almost come to an end in liis absence, he was not allowed to go because he would not make that declaration. Hunger had taken a deep interest in the score of young men in Yale Divinity School who were looking forward to service under the Board, and had co- operated with Smj^th in securing the protest of Presi- dent Dwight and members of the Divinity Faculty against the imposition of new doctrinal requirements. His chief interest, however, had been in Mr. Hume, because of his relation to the United Church, and its letter of protest to the Board, though couched in fit- ting terms of respect, was explicit on the question of order and regularity : Mr. Hume's standing as a Christian teacher has never CHURCH BUILDING 299 been called in question by his Church, nor by any council of churches, and we question the moral right and equity of a procedure on the part of the Prudential Committee of the American Board, by which without adequate examination, without a hearing, without a statement of reasons, and with- out reference of the case to a competent body of represen- tatives of the churches in council, his fair name is tarnished and his ecclesiastical position is compromised and discredited in the eyes of the public. ... It seems to us also a wrong done the Christian Churches which have set him apart as a Christian missionary, and have secured him his ecclesiasti- cal standing ; and we do not hesitate to say that your action in this case appears to us to involve a usurpation of ecclesi- astical prerogative — a usurpation which imperils the integ- rity and purity of our Church order, and tends to paralyze the cause of missions, and to put in jeopardy the work and the standing of every missionary in the foreign field who does not yield assent to an unnecessary test of fitness for the missionary service. The letter from President Dwight was also influ- ential. It urged the reference of questions of doctrine to councils as "the highest authority known to our Congregational system so far as the matter of minis- terial standing is concerned," and after declaring how little interest was felt at New Haven for the hypothe- sis of a second probation, affirmed that : All matters having relation to the Congregational system 800 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER are of great consequence. I cannot but tliink that the Con- gregational way of settling this question is the wisest way, and that the provisions of our system of councils, with such arrangements of detail as may approve themselves, will meet the case most satisfactorily. Is not the inter^'ention of another body, unknown to our polity and not immediately representative of the churches, a thing likely to be attended with danger sooner or later? Should not such danger be carefully avoided? I commend these questions to your careful and serious consideration. The plan advocated by this letter had been fore- shadowed by Vose at the opening of the session. Alone against the other six members of a committee appointed to report on the report of the Prudential Committee and home secretary, he had offered a sug- gestion of the kind as an amendment to their sweep- ing endorsement of the home secretary's course. A settlement of the Hume case on this basis was pressed upon the Prudential Committee "at its very earliest convenience," and in response to this vote of the Board Mr. Hume was finally returned to his work in India. This ensured the most vital points for which Munger and the New Haven divines had con- tended; but more than one annual meeting of the Board was stirred by echoes of the conflict. Slowly but surely the principle of catholicity prevailed. The CHURCH BUILDING 301 "Andover hypothesis" died a natural death, but in one more crisis of Congregationalism schism was averted by the principle of "variety in unity." The denominationalists were obliged to seek other methods of assimilation to "the Presbyterians." The question of the adoption of a denominational creed had already reached a settlement, as appears from the references of the speakers at Des Moines. A "creed" had been framed and given to the public in 1883, but it was never adopted by any representa- tive body, and remained simply the expression of the score of leading Congregationalists who compiled it as to the beliefs then generally current. It did not attempt to speak for the church catholic, but neither did it attempt to commit the "denomination." It was a "declaration" for such as wished to know the doc- trines then commonly held, and had no other author- ity. It was a "testimony" and not a test, and as such remains a proof of spiritual continuity without sacri- fice of catholicity. The early years of Munger's New Haven pastorate brought repeated bereavements among the circle of his older friends. The beginning of 1891 was marked by the death of Mrs. Walter Baker, 1892 by the death of his brother Hezekiah, who had removed to Kansas in 1888, and 1895 by that of his sister 302 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER Cynthia. In 1897 came that of Henry L. Pierce, of whom Wendell Phillips had said, during his term of service as mayor of Boston: "Diogenes in search of an honest man in Boston would have found him in the ma3^or's chair." Hunger attended the obsequies of both these Dorchester friends and prepared fitting tributes to their lives and public service.^ In May, 1900, he was summoned to the funeral of his "life-long friend," Frank B. Carpenter, whose death made him feel more keenly than ever the narrowing of the circle. One of the lines of labor which had brought relief to Munger from the pain of bereavement had been the Hume case, with its issues bearing on catholicity in the Congregational polity. Literary work gave him another. "The Appeal to Life" was followed by many important articles in The Outlook, The Inde- pendent, The Century, The New World, and the London Christian World. The titles, "Personal Im- pressions of Ehsha Mulford" in 1886, "The Works of Elisha Mulford" in 1888, "The Religious Influence of Whittier" in 1892, "Oliver Wendell Holmes" in 1895, show Munger's desire to serve as literary critic and interpreter, and to reenforce the influence of men of insight and genius. Other articles are on 7 Under the title, "An American Citizen, Henry L. Pierce," in The Century for July, 1897, and a "Memorial" to Mrs. Walter Baker, pub- lished in 1895. CHURCH BUILDING 303 subjects of social and religious signijficance, such as "Immortality and Modern Thought" and "Evolution and the Faith" in The Century for 1885 and 1886, "Recent Changes in Religious Thought" in The Christian Union for 1892, and "The Family as a Factor in Society" in The Congregationalist for 1893. The years 1896 and 1897 saw the appearance in Eng- land of "Character Through Inspiration," a group of sermons originally published in The Christian World J and in America "Plain Living and High Thinking," a New Year "homily on the use of money." This was a sermon of sound and practical advice, appljang the Wordsworthian principle which the older New Haven society had boasted as its motto. There were also public addresses, such as that we have referred to on "Education and Social Progress," at Hartford in 1887; historical discourses at the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the United Church in 1892; and the two hundredth of the church in Haddam, Conn. Similar discourses were delivered at Homer and North Adams on anniversaries of the respective churches. In 1898, he gave at Harvard the Noble Lecture on "The Message of Christ to the Will." But the literary work of this period reached its climax in the book published in 1899 under the title, "Horace Bushnell, Preacher and Theologian." 304 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER Ten years before Hunger had been urged by Mr. Scudder, of the firm of Houghton & ^Mifflin, to prepare a life of Bushnell, but had declined. He writes in 1888: I hardly know what to say to you about the Bushnell. ... I doubt if I ought to undertake it. The fact is my place and pulpit require all my time and strength. Each is as sharply determined as the other. I must keep my pulpit up to the mark. Every consideration demands this. And then there is no end to the other time-consuming and strength-exhausting work. He adds suggestions of other possible biographers, particularly Rev. Amos S. Chesborough of Saybrook, and concludes: My hesitation is chiefly a matter of conscience. If I felt that I had a right I would gladly undertake the work and see what I could do with it, though to tell the truth I have not much heart for anything. The sense of physical depression and feeling of the strain of work apparent in this letter is easy to ex- plain. The intense energy of labor expended after his bereavement in 1886 was bringing its reaction. A trip to England in the summer of 1887 accompanied by his two older daughters had failed to bring the expected reinvigoration. Gradually his strength returned. By 1896 he felt able to undertake new CHURCH BUILDING 305 literary work without detriment to the interests of his church and turned to the task as a true labor of love. Munger had not only the qualities of a critic of reli- gious literature but, as we have seen, his indebtedness to Bushnell as a leader of the religious thought and life of New England made the work an unconscious expression of his own personality. The venerable widow and her children heartily welcomed such a biographer and lent him their co- operation. Yet congenial as was the task, Munger felt that it required his best and most conscientious effort, and once begun he spared no pains. As to his success we may accept the judgment of one who was both a litterateur and a friend of Bushnell. In a letter dated October 3, 1899, Charles Dudley Warner wrote : You have made an adequate, very definite and magnificent portrait of one of the most masterful and original men of our American generation. You have made his character, and especially his work, stand out with great vividness, and I think at this time it was necessary to mark for the public exactly what Bushnell did for his age. You have done this with such lucidity and vigor of expression, such closeness of analysis and contrast as to make the narrative one of extraordinary interest. 306 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER The significance of the verdict appears in the clos- ing sentence of the book : The recognition of Bushnell will grow as the theological crisis passes and leaves the New England theology of the past standing out in its full and bare proportions, and in contrast with that which seems to be taking shape under conceptions of God and man and evil and redemption that accord with modem thought and with the great law by which all things are interpreted. Then it wiU be seen how pivotal was his work in a transition that will grow more significant as the contrast deepens between what was driven out and what was brought in. It will be said of him as Hamack said of Luther: "He liberated the natural life, and the natural order of things." Bushnell stood indeed for New England theolog}^ at a transition point between the old order and the new. He led over from conceptions of transcendence and supernaturalism to conceptions of immanence and evolution. It was fitting that a New England min- ister, a Puritan preacher of the New Haven school, should be his biographer. But it was neither to the field of ecclesiastical polity nor to literature that Hunger chiefly gave himself. It was to the upbuilding of the historic parish that had been committed to his care. On this point we may CHURCH BUILDING 307 well cite the testimony of a daughter who had become increasingly his dependence in literary work : In looking over the New Haven diaries, the thing that especially impressed me was the same thing that marked the North Adams Hfe — and it could not have been otherwise — a steady and persistent doing of the thing to be done next. There was much parish calling, the attempt to know and place the parish. He early became a regular attendant of the Monday Ministers' Meeting, I think for the reason that he felt that it was an institution of real value and that it was a part of his work to help make it more so. He soon began to take part in the meetings of the various charitable societies of the city, and his growing reputation brought him many invitations to speak and lecture. But it was to the church that he gave the main part of his strength, and the task of making it a really United one was one which called for tact and patience. There was a union of some- what divergent social elements to be accomplished as well as theological distrust to be overcome. But the church has always shown a fine spirit and a fine loyalty, and it was not long before all had confidence in him. I am also impressed by the story of work accomphshed. Besides his Kterary and parish work, there were many other duties. He was a frequent attendant at the University and Seminary lectures and he enjoyed keenly the social life of New Haven. His interest in the Seminary was deep, and his influence over the students a very real one. For a long 308 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER series of years many of them came frequently to talk over with him the questions which arose as they looked forward towards their professional life and out of his own wide experience he gave them all that he could. His friendly intercourse with professors both in the University and Seminary was full of help given and received, as great questions of life and letters and science were discussed. He was very regular in his attendance upon the meetings of the Yale Corporation and for several years a member of its Prudential Committee. The diaries make little mention of what he did there, the chief points of which they speak being his share in the establishment of the Yale Music School, and in the changes made in 1894 in the conduct of the public exercises at the Yale Commencement. With his growing reputation, his correspondence became an increasing tax upon him, and many hours were given to letter-writing. A large part of this correspondence was in reply to appeals for advice on difficult theological or reh- gious questions. I am continually surprised at the power of work which as a man past sixty he showed. We had never thought him very strong, but I suppose the secret of it was that he worked without fret or worry. I cannot account for it in any other way. Early in the nineties he saw clearly that the work of a large church was more than one man could do as it should be done, and thereafter it was shared with an assistant pastor. CHURCH BUILDING 309 Miss Munger writes also of her father's conscien- tious attendance at State Association and Conference meetings, and similar ecclesiastical gatherings : He was often speaker or preacher, but I think he went to them as a matter of principle. This may have grown out of the same feehng that made him think of the Episcopal church as possibly his when he was a young man — the need of a firm organization to conserve work. There was in addition the work of the national "Committee of Fifty to Investigate the Liquor Prob- lem," of which he was an active member, furnishing carefully prepared reports. The work it accom- plished ma}^ be learned from the volumes issued by the committee. Edification was the pastor's prime consideration, and even in outside service he did not move alone, but with the support of his people. His annual report was in the form of a sermon preached as soon after the January church meeting as possible, in order to secure the widest possible publicity and interest in the work accomplished. The Sunday service, careful as was the preparation for it, was not exalted at the expense of the mid-week prayer meeting. His papers include a great number of outlines for addresses on these occasions, much care being lavished on them. 310 THEODORE THORNTON IVIUNGER From the beginning of his pastorate the importance of the missionary work of the denomination had appealed to him, and he felt deeply the necessity of interesting his church in this larger work. His years in the United Church saw large increase in the contributions, and so far as he was able he kept before his congregation the great work which the American Board was doing. Especially was he a loyal friend and supporter of the church's representative, Robert A. Hume. In the years of physical and nervous depression which had followed upon his bereavement, jNIunger had written to a friend, "^Vhen the dam has been carried away it is not of much use for the miller to try to keep the mill going." The home life with its family prayer, its evening readings from the best literature, its training of childhood, its intercourse with friends and guests, had indeed been like the storing up of quiet waters of refreshment and invigoration ; and though the older daughters were now of an age to assume the cares of the household and the younger children, and Rose was sharing in her father's literary work as secretary, the mother's death had been not only a bereavement to Hunger's heart, but a loss diffi- cult to measure to the efficiency of his ministry. No better gift could have come to the church, nor the CHURCH BUILDING 311 home, nor to himself, than that which came on Hun- ger's birthday (March 5, 1889) when he was married to Miss Harriet King Osgood, daughter of John Christopher Osgood of Salem, Mass. Soon after his engagement in the preceding year Dr. Munger had bought a lot on Prospect Street, the "Tutor's Lane" of old college times, a stone's throw from some of the memorable scenes of his own and his father's college days, and here in due time an attractive house was erected, whose windows looked off over the valley toward West Rock and the setting sun. Miss Osgood was no new acquaintance. Since her childhood she had known and held in affectionate esteem the friend of her parents and kinsfolk. Like a number of others she had stood almost in the relation of an adopted daughter to ^Irs. Walter Baker in Dorchester. This had led to better mutual acquaint- ance, and the friendship had grown through the close association of her uncle. Professor George P. Jewett, with Munger's friend Thayer in the editing of the great lexicon of New Testament Greek. The opening day of Munger's sixtieth year brought him with the renewal of earth's dearest bond a return of the peace which multiplies man's power and gives to life its consummation of fulness and efficiency. Rarely is it possible for a pastor's wife to enter into 312 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER his work with such helpful efficiency as did Mrs. Hunger. She helped her husband in liis literary work, particularly in his "Life of Horace Bushnell." But it was in the parish that her great gifts of organi- zation and guidance found full scope. There she was invariably at his side, and some of the most effective agencies in the church were developed under her direc- tion. The retrospect made by Dr. Hunger in 1906 closes with an enumeration of the distinctive institu- tions of the United Church, in which, after reference to the New Year morning service and the exceptional growi;h of its Sunday-schooP and work among the poor, its "most memorable feature" was pronounced to be "the Sunday afternoon service in the chapel." This was intended for mothers and other women whose household cares made attendance at the morn- ing service difficult or impossible. It consisted of a devotional service, simple but beautiful and uplifting, and a talk on some subject carefully chosen with refer- ence to its helpfulness in the lives of the hearers. It was the special imdertaking and charge of Hrs. Hunger, and grew rapidly from a small group to an enrolment of 270. Children whose mothers had brought them to this service as infants, for whose care special provision was made, later came into 8 Attributed to "the devoted service of Mr. W. R. Downs." CHURCH BUILDING 313 organizations within the church. Bushnell's "Chris- tian Nurture" was thus working itself out in practical form. Munger's verdict was: "If it were asked in what respect the church comes nearest the Christian ideal, I would say, 'Without doubt in the Sunday afternoon service.' " Like, and yet unlike in its service to the city, was the Men's Club, an organization of many of the more thoughtful men of the church, including graduates or men otherwise connected with the university. Its function was the providing of public addresses in the church on Sunday evenings during the winter months, on matters of social, ethical, and civic interest. A list of the subjects discussed would cover almost every theme of current interest connected with religion, civics, or philanthropy. The sessions of the club began with a discussion of "Ways in which Protestants and Catholics can Cooperate," Judge Baldwin presenting the Protestant irenicon, and Judge Robinson, a lead- ing layman of the Church of Rome, the Catholic, while a Catholic priest sat in the pulpit with the pastor. The speakers on these occasions were naturally secured largely from the wide circle of Dr. Munger's friends, and included many authorities of world-wide fame, and many temporary or permanent lecturers 314 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER in the university. Xot the least notable feature of the occasion would be the gathering of a few choice spirits in the home on Prospect Street to prolong the discussion, while the speaker — as a rule the pastor's guest — made good liis points at the expense of much midnight oil. To catalogue the activities of Hunger's Xew Haven church would require a reprint of its manual, and after all would only repeat the story of many and manj'^ an active, vigorous organization directed under competent and experienced leadership to the upbuild- ing of Christian character in individuals, in the home, and in the mvmicipality. Nor was its work confined to city or state. If in any respect INIunger's mark was more distinctively set upon it than in any other, it was in making it not only a "united" but a missionary church. The fifteen years that rounded out Hunger's "three score years and ten" were years of rich and fruitful labor in literature, in civic and educational improvement, in individual encouragement, advice, and help to scores, especially young men attracted by his books and his preaching, but their central interest was the work of church-building. And when at nature's appointed time the burden was laid down, it was with a charge corresponding to that with which CHURCH BUILDING 315 his service had begun. His opening sermon had been on "The Gates of the Church," a vision of the church in the symmetry of well-proportioned development. When in the autumn of the year which marked the century's close, he surprised his congregation by the announcement that he should follow the precedent shortly before set bj^ President Dwight, and make his seventieth year the limit of his active service, his last sermon as their pastor was on "The Municipal Church,"^ a program of civic service for a brotherhood of the followers of Christ. It is fitting that the record of Dr. Hunger's active ministry should close with his letter of farewell : To THE United Church and Society of New Haven. My dear Friends: The time has come when I feel it my duty to resign the office to which you called me fifteen years ago. To those of you who are mindful of time and its flight as related to me, this announcement will not be a surprise; possibly you have been surprised that it has not come sooner. It has long been my purpose to lay down my office when I should reach the age of seventy, and I had intended to do so last spring, but as I reflected that no time would be so inopportune as the summer for the church to take such 9 Preached April 28, 1901, and published as a pamphlet by the church at the press of J. T. Hathaway, New Haven. 316 THEODORE THORNTON IVIUNGER action as would be necessary I decided to wait until the autumn. It is the happy feature of the step that I am taking, and one that makes it easy for me, that I am led up to it simply and solely by the passage of time. No reason could be clearer or more divine. Whatever mistake one may make as to entering the ministry, there can be no mistake in closing it at three score and ten. I do it with less regret because, so far as I am aware, there is no reason growing out of our relation that you should desire its close. If there were a lack of cordiality on either side, it would be a sad ending of a life-long ministry, but since time alone is the determining cause, the event is redeemed from all personal feeling, and is to be accepted as issuing from the very will of God. It is hardly necessary for me to state the reasons why a pastor should resign his office at the age of seventy, but some of you who are far off from that age may not under- stand why one in ordinary health of mind and body should take this step. It is enough to say that by universal consent it is the age when it is wiser in all respects for men to lay down the responsibihties that belong to positions which are of such a nature as to call for the exercise of all their facul- ties while at their highest point of efficiency. This period ends at seventy with the vast majority. There are excep- tions, but he who oversteps the mark incurs the risk of great mistakes, the worst of which is his own insensibihty to them. CHURCH BUILDING 317 And even if a pastor who overstays the limit escapes this blind mistake, and is for a time tolerated in it, he has no right to suffer himself to be overtaken bj conditions inevit- able to himself that unfit him for his work and weaken his ministry. It should, therefore, be a point of honor with him, not to drag his parish along his descending path. The parish is not made for the man, but the man for the parish. The vitality and efficiency of a church will not rise above the level of these qualities in the pastor, and when he falls off in them it is time for him to take himself out of the way. To cover an entire generation with one's ministry is as much as one should attempt; that I have transgressed this limit lends emphasis to my resignation. If any of you, out of mistaken kindness, should urge delay, I beg you in truer kindness not to involve me in a steadily growing mistake, and so turn my twilight into darkness. You already understand my resignation is final, but I do not ask for immediate action on your part unless you should see fit to make it such. Therefore, I will continue to serve you as pastor till January, when I request you to join with me in calling a council to advise you as to your action upon this letter. If, however, it should be more con- venient for you to delay action until a later date, even to the close of the fiscal year in May, I will endeavor to meet the duties of my place as in the past, but with somewhat fuller dependence on my very competent assistant. My dear friends, I send you this letter with a twofold 818 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER feeling, the strongest of which is an inevitable and profound seriousness in this formal closing up of my life as a minister of the gospel of God in Jesus Christ, It has been a happy life, because from first to last I have believed in this gospel and in the ministry of it, and never more fully than today. But while my ministerial life has been happy because of an unfailing enthusiasm in it, and also because of kindness almost never disturbed on the part of those to whom I have ministered, I am increasingly burdened by a sense of its inadequacy and defect. I end it with no self-congratulation, and I have httle desire to review it, except for the love and friendship the years brought with them. Every man, I think, must leave his Hfe with God and hope it may not have been in vain. It has at least gone into the life of the world where even mistake and defect may serve to fill out tlie divine plan. To count on more is to go beyond sure desert. Hence I close my ministry without real sadness over the past, and with an ever-growing hope and gladness as I look into the future. It is probable that I shall remain among you, and hence I need not anticipate the breaking of a single tie between us, but rather that the freedom into which I shall come ^rill strengthen our friendship and make me more fully than ever before Your friend and servant in the love of God and in the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, T. T. MuNGER. CHAPTER X RETIREMENT New Haven, 1901-1910 When on October 7, 1900, at the close of a sermon on missions by the assistant pastor. Rev. Mr. Deane, Munger read his letter of resignation to the church, it was with full appreciation of the chorus of protest that would arise. He was but seventy and in full vigor of mind and body. Accustomed in boyhood to the tasks of the farm, he had always kept up the habit of manual labor in New Haven. He took a certain pride and satisfaction in tending his own furnace and keeping house and grounds in order. With the help of his son, Thornton, he did this until past seventy. Of decline in mental vigor there was no trace whatever. Never had he preached with greater accept- ance to his own church or been in greater demand in other pulpits or on the lecture platform. For years he had been a welcome preacher at Williams College, Harvard, Yale, and Cornell, and the sermon preached at Cornell May 23, 1886, and published in The Chris- tion Union of June 17 on "The Renewal of Life" 820 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER might well apply to his own case. The decision to retire at seventy illustrated the wisdom of taking this step when everyone asks, AVhy did he retire? rather than after people have begun to ask, Why doesn't he retire? Had he sought the advice of the outside world, the newspapers, the public, or of his church, he would certainly have been urged to postpone the step. Pecuniary considerations also bore heavily against it. Fifteen years at a liberal salary, as ministerial salaries go, an additional income from lectures, addresses, books, and other literary work, and some exception- ally fortunate investment of savings had sufficed for comfortable maintenance of the home; still, without the ministerial salary this would be a slender depend- ence for old age. But Munger took counsel neither with public nor church. He did consult one who, of late, had come into relations of close and intimate friendship, Dr. George A. Gordon, whose pastorate over the Old South Church in Boston had begun not far from the time of Hunger's in New Haven. Dr. Gordon wrote : Your letter I have read with deep feeling. I am pro- foundly moved by the step which you are about to take. But I will make no protest. In the candor of perfect friend- ship, I think you are wise; first, because your work is at the climax. Only this summer have two of your parishoners RETIREMENT 321 told me with what fond admiration you are universally regarded. Second, because you will last longer to your family and friends. You must allow me to say that we all look to you for what your letter to me reveals so impressively, the power to take life with religious serenity. You say fine and deep things; you stand by them in life as its beatitude, and that makes your books precious as it does your ministry. Noth- ing seems to me so great as this. "Nothing became him in life like the leaving of it." For this equalization of spirit with exigency I thank you, my dear friend, from the bottom of ray heart. It is the exaraple which I most prize; and I thank God He is with you. . . . Ever with respect and tender affection, Your friend, George A. Gordon. Of course there were many to remind the retiring minister that now he would be able to give himself with a free hand to literature. Bishop E. S. Lines wrote : You will take a larger parish when you cease to be the minister of the United Church. For now you will have us all as parishioners. The editor of The Atlantic Monthly wrote with much more than the mere business interest : 322 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER Boston, October 11, 1900. My dear Dr. Muxger: I have been reading your letter of resignation, and feeling much as if I were one of your congregation. Ever since my marriage I have had frequent opportunities of hearing you preach, and indeed it happened for several years that I attended your opening ser\-ice in the autumn. Each sermon has brought back memories of your preaching in the college chapel at Williams when I was an undergraduate, and you must forgive me for saying ahnost to your face that no preaching I have ever heard has been so helpful to me as yours. I have read your printed sermons over and over until the volumes are quite shabby, and when you stop writ- ing more I shall feel as if another chapter in my life were closed. But of course you will not ever quite stop, I hope! And now that you are looking forward to some leisure, perhaps that essay upon Hawthorne will get written, and I shall have it for The Atlantic! I subscribed to The Andcver Reviexc for two or three years in the hope of getting that article, but I mil forgive you for the tempwrary disappointment if you will write it yet ! . . . Cordially, Buss Perry. There was thus to be for the present, at least, no slackening of the demand for literary work. Neither did the churches mean that he should withdraw from his accustomed counsel and aid in their common inter- RETIREMENT 323 ests. Colleagues of all denominations in the Xew Haven ministry wrote in similar terms of affectionate esteem. But deepest in meaning were the many- letters of grateful appreciation for indi^^dual help from old and young, far and near. Especially dear to the retiring pastor were the tributes which poured in from his own people, from which we can take but a single example. It was from one of the officers of the church, a loj^al and unwearying helper in every good word and work : New Haven, Ct., October 8, 1900. My dear Dr. Muxger: May I have a word to you with all the others.? It is, that your pulpit teachings for the past seven years have been the most valuable body of instruction I have ever received, from tongue or pen, outside the Bible. I do not in the least think of your teaching as ending, or about to end, for while you are with us, your presence and voice will be a constant repetition and re-enforcement of it. Grateful for the steadying, inspiring influence of your words and life, I am, with respect and affection. Your friend, A. B. ]MlLLER. Relations with his larger unofficial parish did not cease. His sense of the greater rewards of the min- istry may be inferred from a few paragraphs taken 324 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER from a letter written in 1902 to the son of his old friend Taft, now in the early years of his ministrj- in an Episcopal parish. The young man had applied for counsel in some discouragement. ^Munger's realiza- tion of the value of a continuous maintenance of public worship appears in the first of these excerpts : Perhaps I should say to myself: "I have sowed the seed; what have I to do with the gro\nng? That belongs to God and soil and weather." But we can go further, and it would be in an Episcopalian direction especially ; namely, an honest and earnest maintenance of the institutions of reUgion — especially unceasing worship — is one of the best things to do for a communit3\ Of course, the more earnestness and intelligence one can put into the observance, the better will the effect be. But, now that I am pastor emeritus I can easily imagine that if I had for my pastor a good man, sincere, humble, and every way decent, I should come not only to love him but to feel the influence of his life. Now, here is one of the strong arguments for the ministry, and one of the best justifications of it — the quiet, steady influ- ence of a faithful parish priest (using your word). But all this you already know. Perhaps you do not know that if you were to resign, you would find many coming to you — some with tears — and men at that — who would tell you that you had been of greatest service to them ; made them see the Bible and life in a new light, and that the}' were at a loss what to do in the future without your constant help. RETIREMENT 325 I go deeper still. I believe that if a man has put on the Lord Jesus and has God in his soul, he has a right to know that that inward life is going out of him into others. Christ's did ; why not ours ? One must have faith in his own faith and treat it as a power. I close by saying that a minister must fall back on the very power and graces that are in him if he is an honest and true man. None of us know much about our success. It may be great or small, but one thing we do know is that no true life is lost upon our fellow men. . . . Very sincerely yours, T. T. Hunger. Munger's resignation was approved by council of churches November 30, fifteen years from the date of his installation. Upon request of the church, how- ever, it was not to take effect until May, 1901. On December 11 the church appointed him pastor emeri- tus at a salary of $1,000, and asked him to serve on the committee appointed to select his successor. Nothing in the history of the church gave him more satisfaction than the installation of his successor. Rev. Artemas J. Haynes, who took up the work in September, 1901, was a man after Dr. Munger's own heart. Throughout his brief ministry the pastor emeritus gave gladly and sympathetically of his 326 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER experience, encouragement, and aid. It was one of the great sorrows of Dr. jSIunger's latest years when this noble ministrj^ so auspiciously begun was brought to a sudden close in June, 1908, by the accidental drowning of Mr. Haynes. The home life in these later years had been bright- ened by new accessions. The second daughter, in 1893 was married to Mr. Philip P. Wells, whose work in connection with the university enabled the young couple to make their home for a time in New Haven. The year 1901, which witnessed the festivities of the university's bicentennial anniversary, was that of another wedding in the INIunger home. The third daughter, Elizabeth, became the wife of John Chester Adams, and again there was special rejoicing in the family, because Mr. Adams's position as an instructor in the universitj^ would insure that the new home would also be in New Haven. The spring of this same year had brought back the surviving members of Munger's college class (Yale '51) for their fiftieth reunion. The fall brought even larger gatherings to the bicentennial celebration. With added endowments, splendid buildings, and equipment, and a great host of honored and loyal sons, the university began the third century of its service in the training of men "for service in church RETIREMENT 327 and civil state." It had been a year of visits and renewed acquaintance with old friends, including Taft and Andrew White. However, Munger was to retain his official connection with the university but a few years more. His resignation from the corporation was presented in 1905, but his interest, especially in matters concerning the Divinity School, remained undiminished, calling forth an address on "Organiza- tion a Factor in the Ministry" at the ordination of Rev. F. K. Sanders as dean of the Department in 1904.' There were other congenial tasks for the ex-pastor's gifts in these first years of retirement. In December, 1900, a banquet was given in Boston in honor of Elisha Mulford. Munger would gladly have been present, for this classic method of honoring a revered memory, unusual as it is to moderns, appealed to him as having special appropriateness to the genial, com- panionable spirit of Mulford. Though unable to attend, Munger prepared the chief tribute of the occa- sion, a sketch of Mulford's character and life, which was read by one of the friends in attendance. Of the historical address at the centennial of the church in Homer, given by Munger in this same busy year of the Yale bicentennial, we have already 1 Published in the Yale Divinity Quarterly for 1904. 328 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER spoken." The year 1902 saw a similar service per- formed for the well-beloved parish in North Adams. At its seventy-fifth anniversary in May, Gladden, Pratt, and Hunger sat together at the services. There was no self-glorification in Hunger's review of his own pastorate which constituted the Sunday morning sermon, but those who listened might well realize as they looked at the three silvered heads before them that in Gladden, Pratt, and Hunger their church had profited by a rare "apostolic succession." Its mani- festation was not in the symbolism of vestments or ritual forms, but in practical service, building their lives into the permanent structure of the chin-ch. Three years later we find the reminiscence of Homer calling out an article in The Congregationalist called "Early Candlelight."^ Between its lines one may read the softened memories of old age, lingering in poetic sj^mbolism over a scene recalled from childhood. Hunger's service to his parishioners at large in this period of retirement included many appreciations of men of mark. Such was the article "A Significant Biography" in The Atlantic for 1905, discussing the "Autobiography of Andrew D. AVTiite," and in the following year articles on "Henry Drummond" in 2 See above, p. 17, note. 8 Quoted above, p. 20. RETIREMENT 329 The Homiletic Review and "An Old-Time Hero" (Rev. John Keep of Oberlin) in The Congregation- alist. In 1907 there were appreciations of "Robert Burns" in Appleton's Magazine^ of "Longfellow the Poet of the People" in The Congregationalist, of "Shakespeare of Warwickshire" in The Atlantic; in 1908 of "Dr. Nathaniel Taylor" in The Congrega- tionalist. It included also keen analyses of conditions in the field of education and religion. His interest in education was shown in the article in The Outlook for 1902 on "The Divinity School and the University," of which we have spoken. In 1904 it led to the address "Organization a Factor in the Ministry." The religious discussions of the times are reflected in the article "Where We Are," in The Congregational- ist for 1902. It is a defense of the higher criticism, accepting its assured results, commending its evolu- tionary view of revelation, and reassuring timid souls with liis own high-souled confidence in "the leadership of the Spirit of Truth." Munger's last volume was published in 1904 under the title "Essays for the Day." In this were gathered the chief fruits of his latter days, not sermons but essays, all but one of which had recently appeared in The Outlook, The Century, and The Atlantic. It was no random selection, but well illustrates the lead- 330 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER ing ideas of the author's life; for the six essays: "The Church: Some Immediate Questions"; "The Inter- play of Christianity and Literature"; "Xotes on The Scarlet Letter"; "The Secret of Horace Bushnell"; "A Layman's Reflections on Music"; and "A Cock to i^sculapius," are concerned with what was deepest and most vital in Hunger's thought. The last is, indeed, but a brief meditation inspired by the parting message of Socrates, and reflects the favorite theme of immortality. The preceding essaj^ also stands somewhat apart. It deals with the art of music in a way to remind us of Bushnell's discourse on "Reli- gious Music" in "Work and Play," even without the author's reference to "hearing it in the dimly lighted and dingy old chapel of Yale College." But the four which precede are condensed restatements of the great ideas of Munger's ministry, linked together by that on "Christianity and Literature," which forms an unconscious summing up of the meaning of his own life. The essay on "The Church," reprinted from The Atlantic for 1903, sets over against one another the disappointing reality and the sublime ideal. The multiplicity of sects and forms was to Munger an evil indeed, but an unavoidable and temporary one. The schism of the New England Congregational RETIREMENT 331 churches into Trinitarian and Unitarian was to him one of the most needless. Return to the old Congre- gational protest against creed subscription was destined to heal it. But this would be but one factor in the synthesis to come. The Church as a whole must ultimatelj^ become the expression of the religious life of the nation, though Puritan democracy and indi- vidualism must first try themselves out in variety of form. The multipKcity of churches reveals several things of great importance — first, man's ineradicable instinct for religion. The choice was open, as it never before had been, and he chose religion as liis supreme portion ; second, it secured an almost universal spread of religion, for so it works when it is free; third, it reveals an unconscious tendency on the part of the churches to coordinate them- selves with the nation — a process that will come out more and more as time goes on. The division into liturgical and non-liturgical is a necessary accommodation to freedom, but need not cause disunion. Catholicity can meet both needs. The Presbyterian church has a full and rich liturgical ser^ace, but it is unused. The Episcopal church provides one for those who wish so to worship. By virtue of its liturgy and its doctrine pertaining to children it is winning 8S2 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER a large place among the churches, and would win a larger were it not that — unnecessarily one would think — it is tied up by certain ecclesiastical notions and rubrics that Anolate democratic ideas, and run athwart the course if Church and Nation are to move on together. Were these restraints removed, it would open a path that many would delight to walk in; but the paths in which Americans prefer to walk are those in which two can walk abreast within as well as without chancel bars. The nation forbids nothing in ritual or belief, and welcomes variet}^ so long as there is unity of the spirit, but it requires that all churches shall think in accord with its spirit and its institutions. This is inevitable. The nation cannot say one thing and the churches another. The dominant spirit of the greater will silently find its way to the whole and a free nation will create a free church by however many names it may be called. We do not say that the nation creates its religion, but only that it shapes and subdues it to its own complexion. As the Puritan fathers made education the safe- guard of their theocratic democracy, planting the schoolhouse by the church and building colleges to guard against the perils of an unlearned ministry, so Hunger looks to the university as the chief ally of the Church. The increasing necessity of the Church is enlightenment, and for this we must look to the University. Nothing of RETIREMENT 333 value is being said today on theology or ecclesiastical usage or practical ethics that does not proceed from it or bear its stamp. But the University must be of the true Comenius type — ^based on nature and crowned with faith in God, balancing all. attainable knowledge, and thus able to teach harmonious truths and true living.* In his latest days, as in his earliest, Munger was conscious of Christianity's vital need of a Church con- tinuous in its propagation from generation to genera- tion of the true Christ-spirit, catholic in its compre- hensive variety in unit5^ But he had learned to look foward rather than about him, and saw deeper than in the early days of his ministry into the real obstacles and difficulties. Increasingly he felt the significance of Bushnell's work as a leader of New England's theo- logical thought. Bushnell, a seer and preacher rather than systematic theologian, brought the "improved" Calvinism of the followers of Edwards to the test of life and reality. Through his influence, direct and indirect, New England theology was forced out from an academic logomachy into the realm of fact, and the present-day witness of the Spirit. "The Secret of Horace Bushnell" as Munger saw it was that "as Harnack said of Luther: 'He liberated the natural life and the natural order of things.' " 4 "Essays for the Day," pp. 41-47. 334 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER From every quarter — Princeton, New Haven, East Wind- sor (Hartford), Boston, and Bangor — came the charge of naturalism, a true charge and fatal if Bushnell meant by nature what his critics meant. . . . If we were to take up Bushnell's treatises in order, we should find what we have called his secret underlying each one, and the soul of it; each is an appeal to nature in its great sense. ... In "Nature and the Supernatural" his central thought had full play; not nature in its usual restricted sense — as with the naturalist who stays within its form and process — but nature as comprising these and going beyond into universal being, even God who is included in its category. , . . "Nature and the supernatural form the one system of God." . . . Bush- nell, outrunning his day, conceived of God as immanent in his works — the soul and life of them. Their laws are his laws. Therefore, if one would know how God feels and thinks and acts, one must go to nature, and to humanity as its culmination. God is the spiritual reality of which nature is a manifestation.^ The message which Hunger designated "The Secret of Bushnell" in the field of life and nature, he felt to be his own in the field of literature. Literature is the art of the portrayal of life. It mirrors the progress of the soul in its warfare against outward circumstance. Biblical literature occupies its pre- 5 "Essays for the Day," pp. 157-175. RETIREMENT 335 eminent place for the student of religion because it reflects religious life, both national and personal, in Israel, a truly chosen people so far as this ineradicable instinct of humanity is concerned. Hunger, though better read than most of his colleagues in the ministry in the rapidly advancing science of biblical criticism and interpretation, was no specialist in this field. He was, however, by natural propensity and by hfelong discipline, a student and lover of literature. He appreciated its artistic beauty, but denied peremp- torily any application to it of the oft-repeated maxim, "art for art's sake." In his view literature, as the interpreter of the soul, can have no higher ideal than to be the servant of religion, never more truly its servant than when in revolt against a dogmatic theol- ogy. Since the advent of Christianity it has taken its preordained place as the exponent of life lived in harmonj^ with Christian ideals. Christianity has infused itself into literature, and used it for itself, making it a medium by which it conveys itself to the world. This is the theme of the essay "Christianity and Literature" which makes a unit of "Essays for the Day." It follows the stream of literature from the Xew Testament down, justly declaring that 336 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER the great masterpieces do not spring primarily from the literary sense or purpose, but from human depths of feeUng and duty. In Dante, "the spokesman of ten silent centuries," is found "the first if not the greatest name in Christian literature." In the Greek tragedies mistake is equivalent to sin or crime, and led to the same doom, but the Inferno, with a few exceptions made in the interest of the Church, contains only sinners. In the tragedies defeat is final even though struggle must never end ; there is no freedom, no repentance and undoing; but Dante builds his poem on the living free will, the struggling and overcoming soul.* Dante serves as the first great Christian example how sin and its reaction, pain eating away the sin, purity and wisdom through the suffering of sin, sin and its disclosure through conscience — what else do we find in the great masterpieces of fiction and poetry, not indeed ^^'ith sla\'ish uniformity, but as a dominant thought.? . . . The root idea of this conception of sin is humanity, the chief theme of modem literature as it is of Christianity ; and it is the one because it is the other. This conception pervades literature because Christianity imparted it. . . . 8 "Essays for the Day," p. 68. RETIREMENT 337 For the most part the Hterature of the Occident is Chris- tian; I mean the great literature. . . . Some great names cannot be included. As paganism lives on in the State, so it survives in hterature, but in each with waning force. . . . The novel of society and of naked reahsm, and the art-for- art's-sake literature which lingering heathenism now and then strives to revive, have no deep and lasting regard; but every author who seems to win a place and to keep it reflects how thoroughly Christianity and Literature interpenetrate each other. ... A Christian nation will accept and adopt as classic only the literature which is Christian. This is simply logical; it must embody those truths and facts which it has adopted as the grounds of its life and conduct. Its literature must represent what it beheves in, what it cares for, and it must enshrine the hopes which inspire its daily life, and, above all, its Hterature must feed the ideals which it has caught from its Faith.^ The essay entitled "Notes on the Scarlet Letter" shows how this principle was worked out on the soil of New England. Hawthorne is revealed as the counterpart in literature of the New England theo- logian. He, too, studies the redemption of the soul; not with the explicit protest of Bushnell against the unreality of theologic phrase, but with a tacit rebuke in the realistic idealism of his art. ^ Pp. 74-90. 338 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER He has but one deep and permanent interest : the play of conscience under sin. He is a student of the soul. He watches its play as a biologist watches an animal under vary- ing conditions ; but in each case it is the study of a soul — not degraded, but only wounded, as it were, and while it is keen to feel, and while the good and evil in it are full of primal energy. . . . Hawthorne knew evil under its laws. Neither sentiment, nor art, nor dogma deflected him from seeing the thing as it is, and setting it down with relentless accuracy. His claim to genius would be impeached if it were not accurate; and the reason why it stands clear and unquestioned is because no taint of morbidness, nor Puritan inheritance lessens the absolute veracity of his estimates. Each may have had something to do with the selection of his subjects, but nothing whatever with his own ethical opinions. His hterary art and execution, faultless though they are, would not alone secure for him the admiration and rever- ence of all lovers of good hterature. For, at last, it is truth alone for which men care ; and truth only is strong enough to win unquestioned and universal verdicts.^ "Essays for the Day" was the final offering of our New England minister to the world of letters. The few remaining years before the end saw little from his pen save the articles already mentioned. They were years of declining strength, but enriched by tokens of 8 Pp. 142-144. RETIREMENT 339 appreciation and brightened bj^ genial intercourse with friends. Of pubhc honors we should mention first the degree of Doctor of Sacred Theology conferred by Harvard in 1904. President Eliot's characterization has the conciseness of the lapidary : Theodore Thornton Hunger, preacher and author, prophet of liberty and unity, who long ago saw what kind of seed the nineteenth century was sowing in literature, philoso- phy, and rehgion, and foresaw the precious harvest of the twentieth. We take, however, from the comment of the Boston Transcript a fuller statement of the grounds on which the university deemed the honor a fitting one : Harvard's conferral of the degree of Doctor of Sacred Theology on Rev. Dr. Hunger of New Haven will seem an entirely proper honor to the lovers of good literature and noble religious thinking, who have found in him the literary artist and the prophet combined. When the man of the next generation, with a truer perspective than now is possi- ble, comes to study the history of the Hberalizing movement within the Orthodox Congregational fold during the last third of the nineteenth century, he wiU give Dr. Hunger a very high place, not only for quick insight into the imph ca- tions of the vast body of new knowledge which science has 340 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER brought to thoughtful men, but also for prompt courage in declaring what the new truth was, and what it meant, and because of his singularly felicitous ways of expressing his thoughts. Dr. Lyman Abbott as a working journalist probably has done more as a popularizer of the thought of other men than Dr. Munger has. Dr. Gladden and Presi- dent Tucker have been more prominently identified with promulgating the new truth as it affects social reconstruc- tion. Dr. Gordon has been more conspicuous as a philo- sophical and theological innovator and teacher. Dr. Munger has seen what they have seen, taught what they have taught by word of mouth and by printed page — though to a smaller circle; but he has stamped the body of writing he has put forth with a finish of style, a mellowness of judgment, a correlation of philosophy and religion, individualism and sociality, spirit and form, art and life, which bid fair to make him an enduring figure in the history of New England theology and literature. His long residence in New Haven and his official relations to Yale University make the more conspicuous the honor done him by Harvard. The following year (1905) saw further public honor in Hunger's election to membership in the American Institute of Arts and Letters. It was an honor justly prized, but came less close to the heart of its recipient than one which on the sixth of the ensuing February was tendered him by his New Haven RETIREMENT 341 church. On that evening the United Church gathered in its parish house to pay him affectionate tribute on the fiftieth anniversary of his ordination. Some from the number of his old college class were there, though Taft, who would have so gladly greeted him, had died more than two years before. Some were there from his first parish in Dorchester and a multitude, old and young, who had been under his more recent care. Led by his well-beloved successor in the pastorate, the church, united in fact as in name, came forward to do him honor, their spokesman presenting a gift of $1,000 "to add to his comfort in some way." More than once we have had occasion to quote from the retrospect given by the aged pastor on this occa- sion over his fifty years of service. We have but one quotation to add, not of retrospect but of prospect; for the closing words of the address looked forward and not back : As the bird trims her to the gale I trim myself to the storm of time I man the rudder, reef the sail. Obey the voice at eve obeyed at prime : "Lowly faithful, banish fear, Right onward drive unharmed; The port, well worth the cruise, is near, And every wave is charmed." 342 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER To be crowned with well-earned laurels, to receive tributes of affection and gratitude from those who count themselves debtors, is the highest privilege of old age, a goal all aspire to, and few attain. Yet when attained, as in Munger's case, it has its sadder aspect. Public honors for the aged are leave-takings of public life, and the lines with which Munger closed the retro- spect of his ministry show how clearly he realized this. His resignation from the pastorate marked the be- ginning of this withdrawal. Resignation from the Yale Corporation in 1905 marked a further stage. "Essays for the Day" was the preacher's peroration. A few more articles were written, vigorous and trenchant in thought and polished as ever in style. But his work of life was done. Step by step the pas- tor, preacher, counsellor, critic, and essayist had with- drawn from the public, narrowing little by little the horizon of his dailj^ affairs. Is there any art by which withdrawal can be made graceful? Is there any wisdom by which the spirit can adjust itself gently and quietly to the increasing infirmities and limita- tions of old age? If so, Munger showed both. Gor- don had justly said of his resignation that nothing in his public career so became him as his withdrawal from it. It was done with the modest courtesy which had marked his entire life. And when the public RETIREMENT 343 plaudits were over, in the retirement of the home there was no repining, no melancholy, for the horizon was still wide and full of the warm tints of sunset glow. Even the years which followed the commemoration of Plunger's ordination were far from inactive in the service of the parish, and particularly in the cause of missions. Many were the calls made on those in trouble and bereavement, always in company with Mrs. Munger, who from the time of her marriage had shared every work, every visit, every service with her husband. His correspondence still continued wide. Many were the visits made to solicit gifts for the building of a church in Ahmednagar, India. For this missionary enterprise under the care of Robert Hume, he raised by his personal efforts a fund of $2,000. In 1906 we find him securing gifts amounting to $500 for a library to be placed in the Doshisha Col- lege in Japan. The books were intended for the use of Japanese pastors who had learned the use of Eng- lish. Other undertakings of like character follow. The house on Prospect Street remains as ever a resort on the one side for students, especially from the Divin- ity School, on the other for men of distinction visit- ing the university or preaching in the churches of the city. There is generous advice and encouragement 344 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER for the one, high and profitable discourse with the other. And ever in the inner circle went on uninter- ruptedly the process of home-building, the structure of the house not built with hands. The old New England customs of domestic worship, the family tradition of evenings spent in reading aloud from the best literature, were maintained, not perfunctorily, not as an obligation, but as an expression of the loving fellowship that seeks means of communion and sympathy. For the brother in Montrose and the remaining group of kindred there were letters, gifts, and occa- sional visits, as well as for the wider circle of friends, such as White, Noble, and Gordon. Home and friends filled in ever larger degree the outline of life. JNIrs. Hunger's sedulous care watched over her hus- band's physical welfare, while each day tendered its harvest of thanks for the work of earlier years. In particular "Essays for the Day" brought many appreciative letters. Donald Mitchell (Ik Marvel), whose "Reveries of a Bachelor" had awakened admiration in his college days, wrote him now not only as a fellow litterateur, but a neighbor and friend : Your books invite and reward that deliberate reading which ensures wide spaces for tliinking. RETIREMENT 345 Homer Sprague wrote with still warmer apprecia- tion; Francis Peabody of Harvard expressed his pleasure in the book and also the new friendship, promising himself further conference when he should come as Lyman Beecher lecturer in 1904 at the Divinity School, and there were many visits from Gordon to bring high thought and good cheer. Two letters to Andrew D. "V'VHiite from this period throw light upon Hunger's thinking. On January 14, 1905, he writes: You must let me tell you with what deep interest we — that is Mrs. Munger, Rose and myself — have read your two papers on Grotius. They seem to me to be history of the first order. Also I think they are of great value at the present time. Grotius seems to me to be a vital spirit in the unfolding of humanity. I think some years ago I called your attention to Dr. Bushnell's eloquent words on him in one of his addresses, and also to the part played by Grotius in New England theology. As you know, the entire history of theology in New England may be called an improvement. Every stage was an advance on the previous. The great Edwards while he made the doctrine of the Atonement far better than that in England still left it in a very unsatis- factory and illogical condition. His son was a keener man than his father, and also was more familiar with the progress of thought, and became acquainted with Grotius' view of the Atonement. This view was not the expiatory or Calvinistic 346 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER view, but the governmental view, and is in keeping with Arminian theology, to which you refer. The younger Edwards, while a pastor of the church of which I am now pastor emeritm, introduced the view of Grotius, and it was universally accepted in New England. It was a great improvement and brought immense relief through our Dr. Taylor in New Haven. It is all over today, but it was great in its day and is to be remembered with honor. ***** I learn from the papers that you have given up the lecture in the Dodge course [on civics] — to my great regret, as it lessens my hope of seeing you very soon. I also regret it because a fine chance is lost to urge one of the most vital subjects up — namely Peace. It has laid hold of the thought of the day and it is a pity to miss any chance to nourish it. Perhaps you have caught my disease — Anno Domini. Always faithfully yours, T. T. MUNGER. Students of the New England theolog}^ will find interest in this half-forgotten page so localized in New Haven surroundings. Admirers of Grotius, statesman, lawyer, theologian, and advocate of inter- national peace, will find pleasure in it. To the reader who recalls Hunger in college debate, and his "voice for war" as the great providential promoter of civili- RETIREMENT 347 zation and check on overpopulation, there will be an amusing discrepancy, easily accounted for by the exigencies of college debaters. Other letters to the same old friend show the clergyman in his own field to be the better peacemaker of the two. The application of Robertson's principles of teaching proved more diplomatic than the "War- fare of Science and Religion." I could see more clearly [from White's article on "Sarpi" in the December Atlanticl why you took exception to my over-charity for the Roman church. The inner view and the long view, I suppose, create permanent convictions. I do not quarrel with them, but I have become dissatisfied with every church taken by itself, yet feel there is tremendous truth and power hidden somewhere amongst them. And so I have come to accept them all, and — as it were — adapt myself into each one and take it as it is. Besides, I see how necessary the Church of Rome is to us at the present time, and what a hell we should have without its restraints and constraints. I have unlimited faith in Democracy, and the gates of Rome will not prevail against it. Meanwhile they will be of much use. Besides, we have much to learn from it. As to charity, I thought I had reached the full flower of it until our Dean Burr came along the other day, and took me up for making any exceptions whatever, saying, "We have at Cornell some Mormons and Christian Scientists 348 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER who are most active in our Y. M. C. A., and most exem- plary," etc. I took off my hat to him as a broader man than myself. Hunger's conception of catholicity followed Rob- ertson's second principle, "Truth is made up of two opposite propositions, and not found in a via media between the two." Another extract will show how he had applied in practice the third, "Spiritual truth is discerned by the spirit, instead of intellectually in propositions; and therefore truth should be taught suggestivelj^ not dogmatically." The letter, written in ]May, 1905, acknowledges the receipt of a volume somewhat in the vein of White's own "Warfare of Science and Theology." I am glad that this mass of fine and correct criticism did not come to me at one time. I learned it better in the way I did, than if at once, and from another. Not much of a religious nature can be learned from books. It comes through the play of one's own nature and in other ways than by what is called "getting at the facts," though of course the facts have a certain use. I don't want to bore you, but I would like to .illustrate from my own experience how new truth is to be got into people's lives and belief. For example, I spent eight years at North Adams, and nearly twenty years here in New Haven. At each place I was forced on entrance to make a stout RETIREMENT 349 denial of everlasting punishment. But I did not enter upon a series of denials and sharp distinctions between old and new, but preached and followed almost unconsciously Robertson's "Six Principles" (see Life, Vol. II., p. 160), that is, by suggestion and never dogmatically. As a result, after the years were over, I came in each church to find a solid following of people thinking as I thought — not exactly, but near enough — by slow and natural process, retaining a great deal that was both old and good and true. In New Haven it was two or three years before they fell in, but at last they were absolutely one with me. . . . Before I resigned the old creed was given up and a creed without dogma or miracle was adopted. One more wreath was to be placed upon the good gray head. It was fitting that it should come from the university which he had loved so long and served so well. But for the unbroken rule that Yale decrees no honors to her own officers, the bicentennial year, in which Hunger's own class had returned for its fiftieth anniversary, would have been the appropriate one for giving him the degree of Doctor of Divinity. Har- vard gracefully anticipated the honor while Munger was still a member of the Yale Corporation. His resignation in 1905 removed the only obstacle. In 1908, on the same commencement occasion when his son received his diploma as a graduate of the Forestry 850 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER School, the slender form, still but slightly bowed, stood forth before the great assembly in Woolsey Hall while the public orator of the university announced the degree. The president in brief, well- chosen phrase presented the diploma, and as the white head was bowed, the marshals hung about his neck the blue hood with scarlet facings, while the hall rang with prolonged applause. We cannot choose words more fitting to conclude the story of Hunger's public career than those which brought tears to the eyes of the assembly as they joined in this tribute to a worthy son of Yale, a good servant "in church and civil state." To the hundreds of Dr. Hunger's friends who had long looked up to him as their spiritual guide, the orator seemed to voice the unspoken words of a generation of grateful hearts : " Watchman, tell us of the night, For the morning seems to dawn. Traveler, darkness takes its flight Doubt and Terror are withdrawn." Preacher of Righteousness in hope and faith for more than fifty years ; guide by word and pen to the uplands and mountain sides and summit peaks of religious thought and life ; sympathetic biographer and worthy successor of New England's Horace Bushnell; for more than twenty RETIREMENT 351 years a potent force in the hearts and lives of the people of this city; already crowned with highest academic honors by other and the greatest of our universities; why, towards his evening, when the storm clouds of religious controversy leave only faint mutterings on the distant horizon, and a clear sky is seen at last to be, as he always knew it to be, studded with the constant stars — why should not his own university, to which he has brought honor and faithful service, likewise honor him? " Watchman, let thy wanderings cease. Hie thee to thy quiet home. Traveler, lo, the Prince of Peace, Lo, the Son of God is come." Twilight came gently on. The home circle shel- tered him more closely, and the broken ranks of old- time friends closed around him. Bereavements there were ; for this same early summer saw the tragic death of his greatly beloved successor in the parish and also that of his last surviving brother. But his affections were not set on things on the earth. His look was upward and outward. Little by little the erect frame grew less firm, the faculties of mind, so long clear and disciplined, wavered. Now bright with the old vigor and lustre, they were again veiled and uncertain. Surrounded with love and tenderness, honored by a host of friends, blessed by children's children, he trod 352 THEODORE THORNTON ]VIUNGER the path whence none returns, walking unfalteringly in the comfort of a reasonable, religious and holy hope. The end came on the eleventh of January, 1910, a few weeks before he had attained to fourscore years. It was a beautiful winter's evening. He sat among his books looking out toward the sunset, dreaming as in boyhood days with his dog at his feet. Into the brightness of the glorious west he looked — and passed away, painlessly and in utter peace. Hail, tranquil hour of closing day. Begone, disturbing care, And look, my soul, from earth away To Him that heareth prayer. Calmly the day forsakes our heaven To dawn beyond the west; So let my soul in life's last even, Retire to glorious rest. CHAPTER XI APPRECIATIONS The death of eminent men eaUs forth three differ- ent kinds of characterization. Resolutions of respect and sympathy are passed by various organizations. Obituary notices in the public press attest the esteem in which he was held by the public and its sense of obligation for service rendered. Letters from friends express the loss felt in this more intimate circle. Finally, in some few cases, inscriptions in marble and bronze will enshrine for future generations the dis- tinctive value of the life they commemorate. In the case of Dr. Munger all these forms of char- acterization were employed. We need not dwell upon the resolutions of sympathy and respect by the Yale Corporation, the New Haven Association of Con- gregational Ministers, and similar organizations, but our estimate of Dr. Hunger's service to the ecclesiasti- cal and social life of New England would not be complete without the record of public tributes at commemorative services. A more intimate knowledge of the man in his home character and daily habit of 354 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER thought and life may also be obtained from those whose estimates are based on a closer familiarity. It was in the midst of a blinding snowstorm on January 14 that Dr. JNlunger was laid to rest in the Grove Street Cemetery near his Xew Haven home, while church bells tolled and people reverently un- covered. The services were held in the United Church, led by the pastor, Rev. R. C. Denison, assisted by Professor Bacon of the Divinity School and Dr. Stewart Means, rector of St. John's Episco- pal Church. Brief addresses were made and the con- gregation, large in spite of the storm, joined in the singing of two favorite hymns. But the memory of their beloved pastor was not left by the church to the hearing of the ear. In due time a tablet was placed near the pulpit so long made memorable by his minis- tration. Its sculptured symbols, flowers typical of earthly beauty, purity, and transiency, and a lamp and flame symbolic of the eternal life, reiterate his message. Its inscription sets forth his record of service in lines cut on spotless Norwegian marble : 1830 1910 Theodore Thornton Munger, D. D. A Messenger of the Spirit to the Churches Pastor of this People, 1885-1910 APPRECIATIONS 355 Dwelling in the presence of God, seeking all truth Hailing all progress and loving all freedom He summoned this church to the service of city and world Seeing light he led many into light and entered into Fullness of light. Of the memorial services at the unveiling of this tablet we shall have more to say hereafter. At an earlier date the university had paid a corresponding tribute. On November 1, 1910, a group gathered in the rotunda of its Memorial Hall to witness the pres- entation of a bronze portrait in bas-relief. The monument was a gift to the university from friends of Dr. Hunger, Dr. E. P. Parker of Hartford, his col- league in the corporation, making the commemorative address. Dr. Parker spoke the language of personal friendship and esteem. In accepting the gift, Prof. Bernadotte Perrin, who as orator had so moved all hearts at the conferral of the degree, again spoke on behalf of the university. The portrait in its academic garb, clasping in its left hand a book, the face and attitude suggesting only the serene dignity of noble thought, speaks to the world of Munger as the "uni- versity preacher" that he was. The following extract, from one who as assistant to Dr. Munger had more than the ordinary means of 356 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER knowing, bears witness to the reasons for the effective- ness of this service "as university preacher in many colleges, as friend and counsellor of young men" : The "Optimist" (Rev. Frederick Lynch) began his min- istry as assistant to him and came under his abiding influ- ence then, and before as a student. . . . He would like to mention two characteristics of Dr. Munger's that greatly impressed him. One was his sense of the sacred- ness of work. He looked upon his task, if a thing worth doing at all, as a thing that must be done as perfectly as he could do it, with utmost pains and care. He hated slovenliness in either speech or writing. An ill-prepared sermon irritated him. Sometimes it seemed to the writer, he thought sermons which showed a lack of hard thinking and hard work sins perpetrated by irreverent men. Every one of his own sermons is a work of art. Every sentence is a thought expressed in choicest language. . . . Many hours went into the preparation of every sermon. The other thing is this. He came as near the ideal of a gentleman, in the time-honored sense of that word, as any- one The Optimist ever knew. A gentleman is one who keeps himself pure, has a high sense of honor, and shows in all his relationships a feeling for the comfort and well-being of others. These qualities impressed all who knew him. He was continually preaching to young men on this point. He used to read Cardinal Newman's classic measure of a gen- tleman in "The Idea of a University," but no one ever better APPRECIATIONS 357 fulfilled those remarkable lines. To those who knew him his Hfe was the commentary of his gospel/ We shall have occasion to return to the testimony of "those who knew him" regarding these habits of daily life and work; for Hunger's life was a success because he lived out the purpose set before himself from boyhood. It had nothing of chance or miracle, unless we so call steadfast, conscientious labor. God- fearing faithfulness to principle in the pursuit of noble ideals. There is another characterization worthy to be recalled in this connection, for it presents the man in his place among university men. It was on occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of Munger's ordination that a discriminating journalistic friend wrote of him: Dr. Munger has not been a preacher to the multitude in a large metropolis. Every generation has great preach- ers to the many, and great preachers to the relatively few; preachers to the laity, and "preachers to preachers," who in turn minister to the many. Dr. Munger belongs to the latter class. His methods and his ideals have contributed to make his ministry "a continual disclosure of a beautiful spirit," in which, Hke Martineau, meditating on divine things, "those who would might hear." 1 Rev. Frederick Lynch in The Christian Work and Evangelist for January 29, 1910. 358 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER Lecturing at Yale in 1896 on the Lyman Beecher Foun- dation, Rev. Dr. John Watson, of Liverpool, who, better than any other British Nonconformist of his day and gen- eration, has played the dual role of preacher of the Gospel and man of letters, made a plea for setting forth the science of religion, i.e., theology, in a becoming dress. He argued that it was the great reproach of the Puritan di\nnes of England that while they wrote so much theological print they contributed only one, possibly two, books to literature. He contended that there was no necessary antipathy between culture and theology since there is no reason, he said, "why words should not wait on the theologian like nimble servitors as readily as on the poet." Indeed, Dr. Watson affirms "a man cannot be a theologian unless he be also, in spirit, a poet; for poetry and Christianity live and move and have their being in the same region." Dr. Watson then proceeded to enumerate certain theologians who had been stylists — Hooker, Jeremy Taylor, J. H. Newman, and Horace Bush- nell among them, and then said: "Theology which has not been in the main current of letters is invariably stranded in some creek and forgotten; the men who added culture to science live and flourish." At the time Dr. Watson uttered these words concerning a theory which his own practice adorns, there was then in the active ministry in the city where he spoke, a preacher and author — Dr. Munger — who, better probably than any other man of his generation in the line of descent of the New Eng- APPRECIATIONS 359 land Puritans, had revealed that felicitous union of good form and solid matter, finished style and enduring substance, pious culture and refined religion, modern humanism and the Gospel, for which Dr. Watson pleaded.^ The extract, notable for its just sense of the dis- tinctive element in Dr. Munger's service in theology and literature, must serve to illustrate the mass of appreciations from the press. Religious periodicals such as The Congregationalist and the London Chris- tian World were not alone. The secular press on both sides of the Atlantic paid its well-merited tribute to the New England minister, often linking his name with that of Bushnell. Thus The Outlook declared : Dr. Munger was Bushn ell's disciple and legitimate suc- cessor, resembling him in mental temper and spiritual insight. He was the fittest man to write that classic biog- raphy which so justly appreciates his forerunner's relation both to the old theology and the new. The irenic and mediating spirit of Bushnell, so conspicuous in his corre- spondence, of a kind then rare, with Dr. Bartol, the distin- guished Unitarian divine, was characteristic of Dr. Munger also. Quoting Phillips Brooks' remark that the Unitarian schism in New England could not have occurred had modern exegesis then existed, he strove for the reunion of the sepa- rated sections of the historic church of the Mayflower, 2G. P. Morris in Yale Alumni Weekly for February 15, 1906. 360 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER declaring that from its division had sprung pharisaism on the one hand and agnosticism on the other. We must turn to the more intimate views of "those who knew him best." One who had come into very- intimate relations as assistant pastor^ wrote : I count Doctor my father in God, and association with him the better part of what training for the ministry came to me. He has given me so much in many ways that I could speak of many sides of his rich life. The one thing that rises up to shut out every other thought is his sweet spirit. Do you remember his remark after the funeral at which he had spoken of Deacon Thompson as "a good man".'* As we three started away in the carriage he said with as deep feeling as I ever saw him manifest: "I declare, I wish that could be said of me when I go — a good man! I care nothing about anything else. The other things said of men are nothing by comparison." . . . We have known one of God's rarest spirits. May his life ever help us to be faithful to Him whose servant he was and is. Still a third wrote out of the same close association : As I remember our talk of plans for work among the young people I recall his tender, personal interest in certain young men who may not have known that he thought of 8 Rev. H. R. Miles. APPRECIATIONS 361 them thus individually. I think of the high level of motive and purpose that became natural to certain young people because he lived on that level and week by week lifted them up toward it. . . . Then I think of the wisdom and beauty of his teaching, and again I find the root of it all in his goodness. For I know how faithfully he worked. In his humility he actually shrank from his office as preacher. He mounted the pulpit week by week almost, or quite, unwilhngly. But in his faith- fulness he shut himself up in his study to prepare himself for his service. He held himself steadily to the ideal that he set before others — not the ambition to excel, but to do one's best.^ ''Lowly faithful" are words that have little of the heroic ring. Lives of which we say An honored life, a peaceful end And heaven to crown it all. may lack the dramatic factor. But though imagina- tion be not stirred there is still value in learning how success has been won in the pursuit of a noble, un- selfish ideal of life. If one in the closest of all rela- tions bears witness to the same ideal in the daily life, then it is worth while that the daily practice itself be set down, in order that the spirit, at least, of a typical New England ministry may not be lost, as new gen- * Prof. John Pitt Deane, Beloit, Wis. 362 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER erations come to take up the service and responsi- bilities of the old. Of the life in his New Haven parish ^Irs. JMunger writes as follows : Except on Mondays, which were (comparatively) rest days, Dr. Hunger spent the hours from about 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. alone in his study, preparing for the next Sunday and writing the weekly sermon. He has told me that he usually spent the first hour in his study in meditation, and "before I begin to write," he said, "I try to put myself into the consciousness of Christ." Perhaps an average of fifteen hours' real work went into most sermons. From four to five afternoons a week were given to parish calls all over the city. Often aged parishioners asked him to offer prayer in their homes, or he suggested it himself with them or with the sick. He attached much importance to the mid-week meeting of the church, and made careful and thoughtful preparation for it, making full notes of the talk he wished to give, the points he wanted to impress. At his New Year's morning prayer meeting, begun in North Adams, and con- tinued through the New Haven pastorate, he was almost at his best, and to it he gave long thought, and work, and prayer. Under his guidance it had a decided influence on the people. He was most particular in his choice of hymns, spending much care in a selection which would make the service a unit. He thoroughly believed in congregational singing in church and secured it. At home all the music was a rest APPRECIATIONS 363 and delight to him. He used to say that listening to fine music was always a "thought starter" with him, and I have often seen him make notes as he listened. His ideas of hospitahty were unbounded, and the home kept open doors. I had to guard his study hours from intruders, and often be quite stem in saving them from interruption. During the seven years when the Men's Club of the United Church held Sunday evening services, the speaker at that service usually was our guest, and the gath- erings in the study of interesting men from far and near on the evenings of Saturday and Sunday were notable. He was a good listener, and knew how to draw out what was best in others. Often until the small hours the talk went round during those years of the nineties. To young men seeking his counsel he gave his best thought, and both in personal conversation and in writing gave freely of his time. I think there was unusual love felt for him among them, and often in public places, and at social functions a group of men formed about him. He took especial interest in all young men preparing for the ministry, and felt his own responsibility at their ordina- tion or installation, and at all ministerial conferences in the neighborhood. He often gave whole days to these gath- erings, even at serious inconvenience, because he felt he "ought to fulfill his part toward the coming workers." His interest in missions was great, but especially in his later years did his mind and heart reach out to the foreign 864 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER work. He used to say, "We have come to a time when we must think in world terms," and "Christianity is nothing unless it is universal." He grieved over what he felt must be a lack in his own influence and preaching if the churches he served failed to meet his hopes in their interest in and gifts to the foreign work. Missionaries were not forgotten in his prayers, and in all possible ways their work was kept before the church. His horizon never narrowed. Hunger's character had the rare combination of poetic insight with practical efficiency. He saw visions and dreamed dreams, but he could also turn from them to the laborious tasks of sustained mental and physical effort. To his inborn refinement and feeling for beauty he added a keen sense of duty and above all conscientious industry. All his asso- ciates in the ministry speak of his intolerance of neglect in preparation for the pulpit or in parish work. It dated from the beginnings, when the youth- ful pastor in the Village Church of Dorchester set himself to obey the counsels of a "wise father" regard- ing the self-discipline of the minister. Friendliness of disposition, the bearing and culture of a gentleman, aesthetic taste, and refinement have much to do with success in life, especially the life of a minister. But after all "the secret of genius is the capacity for hard work." All were required for the part Hunger was APPRECIATIONS 365 to play in the ecclesiastical crisis of his time. On this point we may quote from one who stood at the storm centre. Dr. Newman Smyth writes as follows : When Dr. Munger came to New Haven a new storm centre had developed in New England theology, and the contro- versy was at its height. For New Haven Congregational- ism the liberty of the pulpit had been already determined by a large and representative Council, which after a pro- longed theological examination and discussion had voted, with substantial unanimity, to proceed with my installation as pastor of Centre Church. When Dr. Munger was called to the United Church, I was able, consequently, to urge his coming with the assurance that no repetition of his experi- ence at North Adams would occur; and without serious dis- sension the Council of our churches welcomed him to New Haven. The session of the Council was made notable chiefly by an outspoken utterance of President Porter in support of Dr. Munger, as he answered an intimation that theologi- cal liberty in the pulpits of New Haven might be detrimental to Yale College. Thus was begun a close relation and friendship between Dr. Munger and myself, which was con- tinued without passing cloud or shadow of momentary mis- understanding through many years of comradesliip in work and thought, and which I cherish among the happiest and richest blessings of my ministerial life. Dr. Munger's high sense of the ethics of ministerial relations, his loyalty to his brethren in the ministry, as well as his intellectual sympathy 366 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER \s4th the thoughts and problems of other minds, rendered his companionship and counsel a privilege and delight to all of us who were associated with him throughout his ministry. To me it was a fellowship in the ministry ever to be cherished among the memories of the precious gifts of God. As the beginning of my acquaintance with Dr. Munger was thus an hour of quietness of spirit and hght, while the theological controversy outside was raging, so as his day was drawing to a close there came another hour, serene and luminous, when his spirit shone through the clouds which had gathered be- tween his mind and ours shortly before his passing, and his thought and words reflected, as in a rare sunsetting, the Light of the Divine presence in which all his life he had thought and lived. When we first met, it was a time of con- troversy. This last walk and conversation, to which I look back as the fitting close of our comradeship, occurred at a time when that day of doctrinal dissension had passed, and we were both looking forward in hope toward the da\vn of another day of larger Christianity and catholicity. He had attended a meeting in which by invitation of the Bishop of Connecticut I had been permitted to address the clergy of his diocese on this subject: Wliat concessions on either side may reasonably be made to promote Church unity? As I walked with Dr. Munger to his home, his interest in the theme had so stirred and stimulated him that his mind seemed to break loose from the physical inhibitions wliich his brain had been enforcing upon his power to express his thought, and he APPRECIATIONS 367 spoke for some moments freely and at his best. I cannot recall as I would his exact words; but I cannot forget the impression which he made of a man looking out upon the present and into the future as one seeing Him who is invisible, and walking with God. You ask me to write of the larger aspects of the story of progressive theology; to do that now is not only a more pleasing task, but it is more congruous with all my recollec- tions of Dr. Hunger than would be the effort to relate in detail the incidents and phases of the theological discussion which was kindled over the incident of my election to the Chair of Theology at Andover, and which for a time threat- ened to create a new schism among the Congregational churches. Dr. Hunger's active participation in it was mainly in the Hume case which you have already described. It was fortunate for the cause of progressive theology that it had from the mission field so good a representative as Hr. Hume, and that he had a home church and a pastor so loyal and strong to help us stand by him when he was under fire, and to reinforce the Andover professors in their gallant and self-sacrificing stand for the liberty of young men to carry Christ's words of spirit and life to the nations, untram- meled by the forms and limitations of the traditional New England theology. Dr. Hunger cared Httle for the par- ticular doctrinal statements around which the controversy raged ; but he cared much for the faith which to him was both deeper and broader than all formulated statements of it; 368 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER and he regarded it as a supreme obligation of his church to maintain the Christian right of Mr. Hume to be a missionary of the American Board. The more active duty of agitation fell to others; Andover became the centre of controversy, and my brother, Professor Egbert C. Smyth, was made the chief object of theological attack, as he was the acknowl- edged leader of the movement, as well as the profoundest and most catholic scholar and theologian of us all; but Dr. Munger's personal influence was alwaj^s in the movement and his writings were potential and inspiring in the minds of many thoughtful men. If some day the historian of religious thought in New England shall complete the story of progressive orthodoxy since Bushnell, he will find ample materials for this culminat- ing chapter in the books and pamphlets, the statements of beUef before councils, as well as in the current newspapers and Reviews of the period; and especially in the editorials of successive numbers of The Andover Review. A brief sketch of it may suffice to enable one to appreciate Dr. Munger's interest and part in it. If often happens, where a conflict between opposing forces is inevitable, that the field where the battle is joined seems to be quite accidental. Often the immediate occasion for the outbreak of hostilities has been some minor incident or subordinate issue. Such was the occasion of what soon came to be called the Andover controversy. ^\nien the Trustees of the Andover Seminary had elected me to the then vacant APPRECIATIONS 369 Professorship of Theology, outside guardians of the faith suddenly discovered a passage of a few pages in a sermon that I had had occasion to deliver in response to a challenge from a club of unbelievers, which appeared to them to be con- trary to the Scriptures and a dangerous speculation. It had been in my own thinking a minor consideration, which was suggested as one among other possible answers to those who rejected Christ because of our dogmatism in His Name concerning the future life. At the time my own mind was much more engaged with more fundamental problems, which have since become dominant subjects of biblical and historical criticism. Even then the matter might have ended where it began, had not some young men from our seminaries been kept back from foreign missionary service because they had manifested sympathy with such views, and a tendency to independent questioning concerning the possible opportunity for heathen to come to a saving knowledge of Christ after death. But the challenge thus made could not be dechned; and at the memorable meeting of the American Board at Des Moines a small company of us were forced to make a stand on this issue for the sake of the larger liberty of consecrated young men in the ministry at home as well as on missionary fields. It is, I think, one of the noteworthy and gracious distinc- tions of this theological conflict, which became general and was intense while it lasted, that the same generation that saw the beginning of it, also saw it ended, and almost for- 370 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER gotten. Clergymen who at its inception had taken their position in opposing array, when the principles for which the little band of liberals had pleaded at Des Moines had at last received due recognition, soon forgot their differ- ences, and the young men were sent forward to work out their faith in their ministry without further hindrance either by ordaining councils or by the administration of the Ameri- can Board. The debate had been brought to clear issue on two main points ; first, the recognition as a permissible theological postulate of the trust that (as the teaching in dispute was formulated by the Andover professors) "Christ will not appear as the Judge to men to whom he has not first offered himself as a Savior" — wherever, however, whenever, in this life or the next, that may be. Secondly, that the Congregational Councils, and not the Congrega- tional Missionary Societies, are the proper bodies to deter- mine ministerial standing. The first question was practi- cally determined at the meeting of the American Board in Springfield, when its official administration was reorganized; the other point was determined by the action of a succession of local Councils, and by a resolution to that effect adopted by a large majority at the meeting of the National Council in Minneapolis in October, 1892. That the end of a controversy, which at times was so zealously urged, was ended in so much good will and with so few dissevered friend- ships, is due above all else to the self-forgetful and serene spirit of the man who, more than any other, suffered indig- APPRECIATIONS 371 nity and reproach, but from whose hps not even most inti- mate friends ever heard words of personal bitterness, whom his pupils at Andover, while the controversy raged around him, used to speak of as their St. John — Professor Egbert C. Smyth. The "larger views" remain; the Congregational ministry have gained their full measure of the "Freedom of Faith." The labors and sacrifices of others have won full Hberty of investigation and thought in our pulpits for the ministry of today : the question remaining is, How shall this liberty of the Spirit be used.f^ For the end which through all this history the representatives of the progressive movement in the rehgious thought and life of the Congregational churches have had at heart, is not a creedless church, or a Christless gospel, or an isolated and barren individualism ; but rather fellowship with the mind of the Christ as that shall be shown by the Spirit to the Church from age to age. To think, to live, to serve in the ever present revealing and coming of the Christ from God to show to us the Father — nothing less than this can be the justification and the end of the movement of liberal theology. To make this faith real and living was preeminently the part and the service which Dr. Hunger's personal influence and writings rendered to the New Theology in those controversial days which are now happily passed. As to Monger's permanent influence on New Eng- land theology we may take the estimate of a younger 372 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER writer, the son of Dr. George L. Walker, whose speech at the Springfield meeting in 1887 had con- stituted one of the dramatic features of the struggle. Under cover of Dr. Walker's name the denomination- alists had years before introduced the Vermont Reso- lution which practically invited their liberal colleagues to depart from the Congregational fold. But at Springfield Dr. Walker liimself disavowed the "con- certed effort to screw up the orthodoxy of the churches." In Hunger's later years this son had come to New Haven as successor to Prof. George P. Fisher in the chair of Ecclesiastical History. It is to Professor Walker that we owe the most judicious of the estimates of this influence, written on occasion of Dr. Hunger's death : So completely has our theological outlook altered in New England, and so silently has the change been effected in recent years, that it requires some effort of memory to pic- ture the situation when Dr. Hunger first came into the arena of debate. The older New England theology, of the later Edwardean school, championed by such a leader as Pro- fessor Park, was still widely dominant. It was not wholly so, however, for the work of such men as Dr. Bushnell had been too thorough not to have shaken its hold, in a measure, on the thinking pubhc. A host of new forces were pressing in. The evolutionary theory of APPRECIATIONS 373 the earth's history, the Spencerian philosophy, the rising tide of Biblical criticism, were making themselves felt. It seemed to many that the foundations of rehgion were in danger of removal, and that the only course was to resist innovation. Others, fewer in number, welcomed and tried to appropriate the new. Its result was controversy and di^'ision. In the late seventies not a little discussion of the finality of future punishment found place in Congregational circles. In the eighties the "Andover controversy," begun over a possible "probation" in the future world, and the debate regarding the acceptance of candidates for mission- ary appointment by the American Board who were tinged with the newer views, raged and threatened denominational disruption. To the conser\'ative it seemed as if the Chris- tian faith was in peril from a scarce concealed rationalism, to the liberals it appeared that there was equal danger from blindness to the newer scientific and historical knowledge. Such was the situation when Dr. Munger appeared before the public. Dr. Hunger's powers had ripened slowly. . . . His spirit- ual life had been nourished in no small degree by Robertson, Maurice, and Bushnell. He had thought much and deeply, but it was not till he was fifty- three years of age that he made his first great contribution to New England discus- sions in his "Freedom of Faith" of 1883. The work was characteristic of the service which he was to do for his times. Not an orator in the rhetorical sense. 374, THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER not a leader in public gatherings, or a formulator of denomi- national policies, he brought to the support of the "New Theology," as he entitled the prefatory essay of his volume, the charms of a style of rare literary felicity and a spirit of deep religious earnestness. Frankly accepting and defending the claims of that newer theology to "a some- what larger and broader use of the reason," "to interpret the Scriptures in what may be called a more natural way," "to replace an excessive individuality by a truer view of the solidarity of the race," "to recognize a new relation to natural science," "a wider study of man," and "a restate- ment of belief in Eschatology," he stood distinctly in intel- lectual sympathy with the liberal party in the questions at issue. But this intellectual conviction was not his great- est contribution. That was rather his profound spiritual earnestness. He felt and he made his readers feel, that the "new theology" was a progress in piety no less than in knowledge. That had been denied and disbelieved by its opponents. It is no disparagement of the other good men who were leaders in the freer movement to say that no other so fully showed the deep religious significance of the newer thinking as did Dr. Hunger. He had a poet's fire and a prophet's vision. He could not have been a dogmatic theologian, but he showed, as few could have done, the "sweet reasonableness" of his faith. In 1885 New Haven became his home, and into the life of the city he built himself until liis death. As a pastor, APPRECIATIONS 375 he helped his congregation not only to well-founded con- viction, but exhibited unusual skill in training for life. His "On the Threshold," published in 1881, was singularly suc- cessful in its appeal to young manhood and womanhood. He won affection and reverence. Always busy with his pen, he followed his "Freedom of Faith" by a similar interpreta- tion of the newer theology, "The Appeal to Life," in 1887, and by a biography of Dr. Bushnell — a most congenial task admirably executed — in 1899. As an essayist he wrote with singular felicity many discussions of considerable breadth of variety of theme, some of which were gathered in his "Essays for the Day" of 1904. As we think of Dr. Munger it must be with the reverence due to striking purity of character, earnestness of purpose and spirituality of outlook. It was natural for him to feel the presence of God, and to look for that which was best in his fellowmen. It was easy for him to perceive the reality of the eternal and invisible. And, because it was so, because of the depth and vitahty of his own faith, he did a great service to his generation — a service that was all the greater because he could show in his own person that an ardent, confident faith was an accompaniment of broad intellectual receptivity to that which was new in religious thinking. The closing chapter of the Fourth Gospel presents in dramatic contrast two types of loyal Christian ser- vice. We have there, set in companion panels, the "red martyrdom" of St. Peter and the "white martyr- 376 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER dom" of St. Jolin. To the one was given a heroic "witness" fitting the impetuous character of the leader of the Twelve. He was to glorify God in the sufferings of his life and in the death of ignominy he should die. To the other, no less constant, no less loyal, was given an abiding "witness." He was to tarry long with the flock, guiding and teaching, perpetuating the Master's spirit by dail}^ life, by tongue, and by pen. Cherished and revered, sur- rounded by the tender devotion of a great brotherhood hanging on his lips as of one who had "seen the Lord," he too passed into the presence of the Master on whose bosom his head had been pillowed. As compared with the others the path of the beloved disciple lay in green pastures and beside still waters, and passing through the valley of the shadow of death he could fear no evil, for the Shepherd's rod and staff were with him. They comforted him. Goodness and mercy followed him all the days of his life till he dwelt in the house of the Lord forever. jNIunger's life and teaching were of the order of St. John more than of the order of St. Peter. There was no lack of constancy nor valiancy. He could and did take the aggressive when occasion required, and took it with vigor and effect, an apostle of love with flashings of the Son of Thunder. But he will be remembered APPRECIATIONS 377 as the interpreter of the inner life, the witness of the living, eternal Word, the preacher to his own genera- tion of the spiritual Gospel, the "heart of Christ." On Sunday, January 15, 1911, a year and a day from the funeral services. Dr. Hunger's congregation assembled for the last time in his honor. It was on occasion of the unveiling of the memorial tablet in the church, of which we have spoken. At this service the address was from the hand of his friend of many years, Dr. George A. Gordon of Boston. It was an appreciation of such beauty and truth that we give it as it was heard by the congregation, who had known and loved "the seer." 1 Samuel ix. 18. "Tell me, I pray thee, where the seer's house is." We have here a relieving and beautiful picture set in the framework of that troubled old Palestinian time. The city with the seer in it became a new consolation to men ; the house of the seer stood there as the centre of reverent affec- tion and confidence. Thither all sorts of persons, in all kinds of difficult}^, made their way. The mother consumed with anxiety over her sick child, the patriot in despair over the faction and woe in the land, the old in their love for an order that seemed to be doomed, the young with their visions of the new and better day, those who were baffled in the trivial quest for lost asses and those who were in quest of 378 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER the eternal, one and all repaired to the house of the seer. From him wisdom played in upon the mysteries of life, small and great, as the light played upon the cloud ; from him as from the sun there went forth a radiant and transfiguring spirit. In his house, in his friendship, in his neighborhood, life and its cares, petty and vast, became easier to bear and a great peace took possession of its heart. We can picture that house, standing foursquare perhaps upon the hillside, with wide ranging outlooks, touched by the outgoings of morning and evening, with its flat roof, where the seer with a guest or two would welcome in the spring of the day, watch the fading glow of the sun that had gone down in the great sea, look upon the coming of the familiar constellations and the gathering again upon the infinite field of night of the stars, in all their solemn Syrian splendor. The sense of beauty and mystery would dwell there ; the consciousness of the infinite meanings in nature's life and in man's would be ever present ; all speech would be in the service of the spirit ; all speculation would leave unex- plored the Eternal fullness. Reverence, faith, and love would live there; life that had made trial of just ways and a great trust in God would lend authority and beauty to that home. The highest thing in that Palestinian city was the house of the seer; the highest gift in the soul of the seer was his sense of the Eternal in man's life, in man's history. To all this we who are here are thinking of a wonderful parallel. Wliile Theodore Thornton Munger lived all APPRECIATIONS 379 serious persons knew that there was in this city a seer; his house upon the hillside was the house of the seer. It had a wide and lovely outlook upon nature in all her moods ; it had a wider outlook upon the ways of men; its widest outlook was upon God, his presence and purpose in the universe. It thus became a centre of love and refreshment for a great variety of persons. Young men loved to climb to its privi- leges ; artists and men of letters came to its sense of beauty ; scholars sought its atmosphere of high seriousness and admiration for learning ; thinkers came to its study grateful for its responsive insight ; men of science turned aside to its door to enjoy its intellectual hospitality; the weary and heavy laden came for its peace. One of the far-shining marks in this city was the house of your seer ; and in that house the greatest gifts were insight into life, sympathy, compassion, benignity, and unweariable regard for all high things. For freedom of thought, wide ranging intellectual inter- ests, rich exchanges of the best in books and in living minds ; for luminous epigrams, tender reminiscence, vivid presenta- tion of great personalities of a former generation, scorn of the metes and bounds of traditional orthodoxy, sympathy with character in all its noble manifestations, above all for the forward look, the sense of God moving in the courses of human history, and unlimited hope, a day in the house of this seer, compared with those spent under the roof of the mere intellectual mechanic, was better than a thousand. 380 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER This is not the place nor is there time for an account of the outward life of Dr. Theodore Munger. We note that he was a physician's son and that he was bred in respect for science; we observe that he was the son of an educated man and that thirty-seven years later he graduated from his father's college. We do not pass lightly over the fact of the combination in him of the French Huguenot and the English Saxon derived from his mother; reminding us that he was a composite prophet to a composite nation. We see him taking his first look at the mystery of nature and man in Bainbridge on the banks of the Susquehanna ; we follow him to Homer, N. Y., and to Hudson, Ohio, as he learns the use of his mind under good masters ; we watch his advent in Yale with the best of blood flowing in his veins and with an inheritance of power concealed in his slight figure dra\vn from the noble stock from which he was descended. His course at Yale both in College and in the Divinity School was directed upon reality. He cared not then nor at any time for show. The power of learning and insight and not their pomp drew forth his enduring love and devotion. Ordination to the ministry in 1856 in the Village Church, Dorchester; service in various churches near Boston, when such service was hard for a man of Dr. Munger's range of vision and critical opinion of traditional orthodoxy ; a fortu- nate visit to California in 1875, a brief pastorate at East Hartford, followed by eight great years at North Adams with Greylock in his study window to remind him of the APPRECIATIONS 381 consolations of the Eternal; marriage and children and the settlement over the United Church in New Haven; a great sorrow, and again life renewed and blessed in rarest com- panionship ; the years of rich labor, increasing authorship and extending influence; honors, academic and popular — the former from Illinois College in 1883, from Harvard in 1904, from Yale in 1908; the latter from men all over the land; the limit reached; the years of contented and happy movement toward the "goal of all mortal" ; the deepening love and the growing tenderness ; the unfailing refreshment from nature's beauty; the noble reahzation of his great capacity for friendship ; the rest in the sure devoted love of his home, the last day with its walk among familiar scenes ; the sunset and the freedom in death — such are the hieroglyphics that hold within their brief and curious forms the history of a great life. As Holmes sang of Webster, so we sing of him: " When life hath run its largest round Of toil and triumph, joy and woe, How brief a storied page is found To compass all its outward show. " A roof beneath the mountain pines ; The cloisters of a hill-girt plain; The front of life's embattled lines ; A mound beside the heaving main. 882 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER " These are the scenes : a boy appears ; Set life's round dial in the sun, Count the swift arc of seventy years — His frame is dust; his task is done." We come to the highest in human character as we reach the loftiest summit in a range of mountains. The natural movement is from the ordinary levels of existence to the extraordinary; in the ascent we observe a gradation of excellence; we note on the way minor forms of loveliness while we climb to the chief and far-shining distinction. In this manner we are to consider our friend and teacher. We are on the way to what was highest in him, to what was his supreme service to his generation ; still the advance is among minor distinctions that we love to observe and lay to heart. We note first of all Dr. Hunger's relation to his intel- lectual environment. In the main that environment was theological. It was not wholly so, since science wrought many of her mar\'els in Dr. Munger's earlier years, and he was ever an open-minded and expectant learner in the school of science. Then, too. Dr. Munger was instinctively a humanist. Literature in form and still more in substance was one of his delights. He felt that underneath great lit- erature is the life of a great people, and that the man of genius sings his song, writes his epic and constructs his drama with his eyes upon life at its greatest. There was music; there were the sister arts that spoke to his soul. There was the sense of kindred, the richness and tenderness APPRECIATIONS 383 of home, the struggle and victory of his nation, history and the mystery of man's life in the earth. All these were of his environment, and toward all these segments of the great circle in which he lived he was reverent and profoundly receptive. It was, however, the theological aspect of this total environment that concerned him most. That environment was constituted by the ideas of the New England divinity. They were everywhere — the sovereignty of God, election, depravity, atonement, regeneration, eternal life and eternal death. They created an atmosphere which surrounded the total rehgious hfe of his earher years. That atmosphere he breathed in his father's home, in College and in the Seminary, in all his intercourse with religious men in his profession and beyond it. Dr. Taylor and Dr. Park had given the final form to the philosophy of Christian faith. That was the generally accepted position. It was settled that where they failed the fault was not in them but in the mysterious order of the world. So many impenetrable mysteries there must be; where light could come light had come. The attitude of the docile disciple was the only rea- sonable attitude; revolt was a sign of eccentricity, perhaps also of a religious experience wanting in depth .and humility, and likely enough the prophecy of an existence running to waste and ending in doom. Nevertheless, Dr. Hunger, like his great predecessor, Dr. Bushnell, stood out in revolt. Dr. Bushnell had found in the reigning theology formal excellence with material pov- S84 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER erty. He grew sick at heart over the "logicers" as he called them. Bushnell's merit lay in material richness expressed in the form of good literature. In the formal presentation of his ideas Bushnell ranks below the greatest masters of the New England divinity. In his essay, "The Gospel, a Gift to the Imagination," he engages Professor Park in controversy, as Park expressed himself in his dis- course, "The Theology of the Intellect and the Theology of the Feelings." Bushnell's question was, Is a science of theology possible.'' He answers in the negative because he contends that spiritual truth is given in material images. Spiritual truth can be seen but it cannot be stated in an order of propositions. Professor Park's answer by anticipation is that we do not mean by the science of religion the presentation of non-sensuous ideas ; that for beings like ourselves is mani- festly an impossibihty. We mean by theological science the selection and presentation of general ideas. Science is the beholding of the universal in the particular, the eternal in the temporal. We may add as illustrations Newton's apple and the falling sparrow that Jesus notes. There is one apple, but it gives a universal law ; there is one sparrow, but it gives the universal care of God. The apple and the sparrow appeal to sense ; but through this appeal the intel- lect apprehends what is non-sensuous and of universal moment. Bushnell is here clearly inferior to the old masters of the New England divinity. At this point he has been an obstacle in the way of theological science. He identified the science APPRECIATIONS 385 of theology and the non-sensuous ; he thought that all presentation of spiritual ideas must be, in the nature of the case, poetry. He did not see that poetry creates images for particular cases with a universal suggestiveness, while science presents through its symbol the universal idea torn from the heart of particulars. Inferior then in formal excellence to the greatest of his predecessors and contem- poraries of the old divinity, Bushnell as a thinker is vastly superior in content, in meaning, in the substance of his message. Here we return to Dr. Hunger. He never quite appre- ciated his debt to the New England divines. Their material inadequacy dimmed his vision to their formal excellence. They taught him to think; they made him aware of what thoroughness in discussion meant; they bred in his intellect a high standard of work; they took him over into the con- sciousness of what constituted the profound treatment of rehgious issues. He knew the New England theology from centre to circumference ; he unconsciously absorbed many of its excellences ; he revolted from it as Bushnell had done because of its material poverty ; he went forth the servant of the richer and deeper rehgious consciousness in the power conferred upon him by the masters of the old divinity. In Dr. Hunger we meet a conspicuous combination of the richer reh- gious consciousness and the forms of good hterature in the service of Christian ideas. As a preacher Dr. Hunger had two rare distinctions. He had a message conceived in an original and in a profound 386 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER way; and he had style. When his "Freedom of Faith" was pubhshed in 1883 his fame as a preacher became national and indeed international. He was not a master of assemblies ; he possessed none of the gifts of the orator and he rated them low. Although for many years in great demand he could not be described as a popular preacher, a being for whom he had a profound and just pity. He was seldom an effective speaker without his notes; he did not possess the voice, the rapidity, the physical vitality and nervous force essential to the orator. If we divide preachers of the first rank into two orders, if we distinguish among these preachers according as the emphasis is laid on the message or on the personahty, if we put the masters of assemblies like Beecher and Brooks in one order and the masters of thought like Bushnell and Robertson in the other, we shall see at once with whom Dr. Hunger should be classed. He did not rely chiefly upon personality ; he did not construct a sermon upon the prin- ciple of intellectual self-sacrifice as the Beecher and Brooks type of preacher does, choosing so much ideal substance as his personality can float into the mind of the average earnest hearer. Dr. Hunger was a master of thought ; he put the emphasis upon his message; he sought to do justice to the ideal strength that possessed him and he had a noble confi- dence in its power to make its way to the mind and heart. His sermons were thus bom of original vision; they were free, ample, often splendid utterances of his own prophetic intellect. They were not adaptations of a truth partly APPRECIATIONS 387 liberated and partly suppressed to less gifted minds. These sermons constituted a kind of Milky Way through the wild unmeasured regions of the spirit ; they were an illumination and a delight; they had about them, too, an undefined beauty, and the touch of mystery; they never failed to set the sympathetic hearer in the consciousness of the Infinite; they brought to him in his petty and troubled earthly task the grace and peace of the Eternal. While these discourses abounded in wise remark, and in the presentation of the just and tender aspects of Christian truth, their chief excellence as a force upon character was in the unfailing sense of elevation which they imparted. Sin, meanness, moral irresolution, infidelity of every kind and name, unworthy thoughts of man's life and God's universe were relegated by a characteristic sermon from Dr. Hun- ger to the underworld. The receptive hearer was liberated, he hardly knew how; he found himself walking in the spirit, in the freedom of a son of God. As Jesus triumphed in his temptation through his supreme sense of Sonhood to his Father, as nothing could drag him from that divine height, so the whole tendency of Dr. Munger's preaching was to fortify men in the filial relation to God, and in the ideal strength that flows from it. The style of these discourses has been universally admired. It was wholly simple and true; the preacher wrote with his eye on reality; the grace of the Christian Gospel went into his words as its ideas went into his mind. He was of course familiar with great literature ; he loved Shakespere and 388 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER Milton, John Bunyan and Sir Thomas Browne, Francis Bacon and Edmund Burke, and above all the English Bible. He was almost abnormally afraid of magnificence and splendor in speech ; and no preacher was ever more free from the vices of expression that so often go with preaching. Bombast, exaggeration, the flamboyant manner, the garish word, the style that is a veritable Joseph's coat of many colors, with the colors faded and running the one into the other, were absolutely foreign to the manner of Dr. ]Mun- ger. He was a Christian gentleman ; he loved one thing supremely, and that was the simple truth; nothing seemed to him noble or beautiful in speech that in any way dimmed the majestic outlines of reaKty. Hence the great merits of his style were fidelity, sincerity, simplicity, felicity, the grace and charm of the truth that he loved and that he did his best to utter. No preacher of his generation came nearer than he to the ideal of a good style, to be not seen but seen through like the window. He never forgot the humorous anecdote told him by a friend of the great Scottish scholar and teacher, Prof. A. B. Davidson. To a former student who besought him to preach in his pulpit the Professor declined, giving as a reason that he had destroyed all his sermons on the ground that preaching is a bad habit and it grows upon a man as he gets older. Dr. Munger's style made him a signal force as a writer. He spoke to the soul of men of letters more than any preacher of his day. The leading serious magazines were open to his contributions. His various papers and essays APPRECIATIONS 389 when thus published carried the influence of the Christian Gospel into a region usually inaccessible to the preacher. Out of this influence grew many of the richest friendships of his life. Here was a man of letters, a lover of beauty, an apostle of light and grace in a Christian pulpit ; some- thing good could still come out of Nazareth. So the sur- prise ran and wrought its greatest work of mediation between men who should always be of one brotherhood, the apostles of beauty and the preachers of the incarnation of the Eternal loveliness. Dr. Munger was a just and wise man. He was enthusias- tic and yet sober in his judgments. For this reason he was a good citizen and a good counsellor. His great claims to distinction must not be allowed to obscure this excellence. In every community in which he lived he was known as wise and strong ; his mind upon all social questions was clear and sound. In the service of the ideal he knew the possible from the impossible; he saw what could be done clearly marked off from what could not be done. He thus made friends for all the causes that he carried upon his heart. He drew men to increased insight and admiration for his Alma Mater ; he greatened the public sense of the historic power and pro- phetic future of his Divinity School; he created confidence in his views of society, evolution and freedom in faith. His character grew out of his causes and as men come to love and trust that character they come to love and trust these causes. He was the wisest, gentlest, most winning, and in many 390 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER respects the most availing of the rehgious leaders of his generation. Look again at the source of this power. He has written more truly of pity than any of our preachers. His deepest mood toward this tangled and tragic world was compassion. He had the patience of a great pity toward men whose views of truth he conceived to be profoundly erroneous, and whose character he felt to be far from admirable. Therefore, when the ^^sion broke upon his soul it did not clothe itself in burning words ; it did not assume forms that would inevit- ably give pain to the adversary ; it became a pure, mild splendor, and went forth as a friend to those whom it sought to deliver. Hot words he could speak ; sharp arrows he could shoot ; but his habit was sometliing far different. He was full of compassion, slow to anger in the conflict of thought, of great patience and of great and precious power. If now we ask what it was that constituted the central merit of this servant of righteousness we shall not have to go far for an answer. In the sphere of the spirit there are two services possible for every prophet. The first is the creation of religious life ; the second is the teaching of worthier ideas of that Hfe, and of the ultimate author and object of it, God. There are men who inspire religious feel- ing; and the feeling which they inspire is of widely varying types from that of Luther to Loyola, from the type inspired by Newman at his best to the type reproduced by the camp- meeting orator. Religious feeling has a vast range, its worth is of widely diff^erent degrees ; and the inspirer of it APPRECIATIONS 391 at its best does indeed a great but partial service to the human spirit. The creation of religious feeling and living apart from any improvement in religious thought is a one- sided service. Here we have discovered the defect of Augus- tine, Luther, and Edwards. They have inspired the religious spirit; they continue to inspire it, and for this service we shall hold them in everlasting honor. They did not teach their generation and they have not taught succeeding gen- erations to think of God and man's world in God in worthier ways. Their failure is as great as their triumph, and they stand for a multitude of servants of the soul that no man can number, whom we revere, but whose ideas we must often modify or even set aside. There are men who inspire no religious feeling but who teach fairly acceptable religious ideas. They have their place and function in the kingdom of God; but the place and function are not eminent. Such centres of light with- out heat, of ideas without great character, of the categories of the religious life with no Hfe in them, appear not infre- quently like the shell found by the sea, beautiful in design and color but with the living creature gone; wonderful they are as devices that present to the ear the roar and tumult of the Eternal; but with them the Eternal is only an imagina- tion, a reminiscence. The distinction of Theodore T. Hunger was that he did at one and the same time both these services. He was the habitual inspirer of high religious feeling, and he was the wise teacher of worthier ideas of God and our human world 392 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER in God. It is for this service above all else that we honor him. What do we mean by progress in theology? Surely not mere change. Breadth and narrowness, old and new, are not fundamental terms. Neither is accordance with the teach- ings of the Bible as a whole a final test. Men are all at sea here, having no sure vision of the religious reahty and therefore no measure of progress. The kaleidoscope turns and at each turn presents a new picture, but who can say which picture is the best.'* It comes back to individual preference; there is no test of beauty but feehng. So it seems in the world of religious ideas. One system goes and another comes; certain views are in fashion today, and tomorrow another fashion of thought is supreme. In all this there is nothing but a mere welter of taste and prefer- ence. In such conditions the conserA'ative clings to the tradi- tional view, the radical follows his passion for the new, while serious men ask in their distress, What is truth.'' Where is the sure test of progress in man's thought of God's world.'' Is there any dehverance from the endless swing of the pendulum of thought between the old and the new, the conservative and the radical.'' Is man's mind among his thoughts like the log in the whirlpool.'' Now the log is on that segment, again on this, and yet again it is moving toward the centre and once more it is shot from the centre toward the circumference. In all this there is change, end- less troubled change, but no progress. Such a picture APPRECIATIONS 393 exhibits not unfairly the confusion and distress in which multitudes of serious persons are living. To them the announcement should come like the republi- cation of the Gospel that the test of all truth about God and man is Jesus' vision of his Father. Christ's vision of the perfect Father is the axiom from which all religious thought begins, to which it remains amenable to the end. The absolute goodness of God, the eternal moral worth of the Father of mankind is the final test of truth in the old and in the new. Nothing can be admitted as true which reflects dishonor upon God; all philosophies of human his- tory, of religious experience, all doctrines of sovereignty, depravity, atonement, and regeneration that run counter to the perfect moral integrity of God must be modified, passed through the fires of criticism that the alloy may be taken out of them; and failing this test they are to be thrown to the dust heap. Progress in theology means the wider and deeper presence of God, and God's world, in man's thoughts, as God and his world stood in the mind of Christ ; it means an order of con- ceptions ascending in worth ; a system of ideas wrought out of the Christian consciousness of the Eternal love. Man's best thought of God is inadequate; his thought may be, indeed it has often been, an outrage upon the divine charac- ter. The source of theology is the Christian conscience enhghtened from the Lord Christ; the judge of theological progress is the enlightened Christian conscience. Worthier ideas of the God and Father of Jesus, of the kingdom of 394 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER God, of man's being and destiny have a perfect right to be considered an advance upon ideas less worthy and at war with the best in man. For the best in man is the voice of God, the Holy Ghost. In the service of the great ideas of religion the intellect waits upon the heart. It is the heart that makes the theologian. He who would teach men about God must know him in Christ, speak to him in his own soul, live with him in the course of his own existence, and triumph over sin and death through an experience of God's compassion and power. The ideas that are the harvest of the deepest, purest, most compassionate heart, are the worthiest of the Perfect Father of men; they are the best outline in theology. If God is perfect, the best instincts, intuitions, and thoughts of the best men are the nearest approach to the truth; and the ever-greatening consciousness of the perfect Father of the world is the promise of perpetual progress in man's thoughts of his Maker. This great provision for sure progress in religious ideas is given in the Apostles' Creed in monumental words : "I believe in the Holy Ghost." This discussion I conceive to be essential to a just appre- ciation of Dr. Munger's work for his generation. He was a deep-hearted man ; he lived in the spirit ; religion was his life. He was all his days seeking to compass more and more of the love of God in his own mortal existence. Many years of struggle, pondering, testing, and wise living were given him. He revolted from the teaching of his first great master. Dr. Taylor, from his acute and powerful contem- APPRECIATIONS 395 porary, Professor Park, and from the New England theol- ogy as a whole because their ideas failed to do justice to his consciousness of God. He sided with Bushnell, opened his spirit to Robertson, turned the receptivities of his intel- lect to Maurice, because he saw that these thinkers were doing ampler justice to Christ's gospel, to his own Chris- tian conscience, and to the Infinite pity. He began the gracious crusade of his life in the teaching of worthier ideas of man's world in God; and this crusade he continued while strength lasted. Here was the master passion of his heart. His interest in good literature was keen ; his sense of beauty never failed him ; he looked with sympathy upon the increas- ing material progress of men; he loved to preach and he loved those who could apply the truth to man's heart, but under all, like the ground-swell after the storm, was the unceasing movement and sigh of his soul after worthier ideas of Christ's gospel and man's world in God. Here was his supreme service. In his sermons and in his books he set forth and declared worthier conceptions of the life of God in the soul of man. He was thus a creative force in the construction of a better philosophy of religion. His worthier ideas came out of a heart pervaded by their power ; thus he was, as I have said, at once the inspirer of a greater religious life and a justifier thereof in exalted ideas. On account of this service he stands in the great line of the servants of the Spirit that have come forth from Yale University to bless the world. 396 THEODORE THORNTON HUNGER From this bare outline of a career so abundant in high service we return to the man. The richest expressions of the human person are to that person as the luxuriant summer foliage to the tree. When a hundred summers have come and gone the great tree stands unexhausted, prophetic of a hundred more. The unexhausted, the inexhaustible human person is the supreme fact and wonder. The great- est service here on earth is but a single version, one season's expression of the perennial soul. All man's works are poor when set in contrast with man himself. The creative human person is the everlasting reality in the kingdom of God. As we walk ^vith our friend down the final years we see much that we cannot forget. He was wise in resigning his office as preacher while his powers were unbroken. He with- drew from public duty, with a touch of pathos indeed, but with dignity and sweetness. As the days passed he became richer in heart and more beautiful in spirit. He moved in a deep and constant atmosphere of peace. The mystery of life was always with liim, but it was a mystery of light because of his faith in the compassionate God and Father of man. Great interests never forsook him; they crowded upon mind and heart; and while he could no longer serve them as in the days of his strength, they carried him in the van of progress where for so many years he had fought and led. His happiness in his home was a benediction to witness ; there more than among liis most devoted friends he was revered, served, and cherished. APPRECIATIONS 397 Infirmity increased, but it could not quench the eager- ness of his mind or the deep and tender regard of his heart. Again and again when he was in faihng health I have been with him in moments when the clouds lifted, revealing in grand outhnes, like some great range of mountains, the truth that he possessed but could no longer utter. As to the deepening regard of his heart I cite again from my own experience. Too frail to endure even the company of a friend of five and twenty years' standing for the usual visit, I dined with him. For his sake I left early. He perceived at once the unusualness of this procedure. He accompanied me to the door, asking with an unforgetable expression of anxiety in his eyes, and with utmost and tremulous tender- ness : There is no change, is there ? He stood outside his door, followed me with the same affectionate gaze till I disappeared in the solemn beauty of the star-lit evening. That was my last vision of him tiU the day break and the shadows flee away. I have said that Dr. Munger's chief distinction was that of the prophet. He was indeed a seer. He was forever in the watch-tower sweeping with his keen and wise vision the whole field of human interest. His house had windows toward the east and the west; he took deep dehght both in sunrise and sunset. He had profound reverence for the great things of the past; he gratefully confessed the unapproachable majesty of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. When he sat in his study looking westward into the glory of evening, he seemed to be in the mood of joy and thankfulness over all the great 398 THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER things that God had done for the present generation through prophetic men of old. Nothing could be more beautiful than his deep and habitual reverence for the glory of the past. It must be added that sunset meant more for him than the close of the day ; it became a prophecy in utmost splendor of other days in long and bright succession. It was this mood of his spirit that made the end ideal. He was in his accustomed chair looking westward into the sunset ; while he sat there the same reverence possessed him toward the monumental things of the past; while he looked backward he also looked forward and beyond. Thus filled with rever- ence and hope the change came and he went his quiet and shining way into the eternal. We can but add: "The sun shall be no more thy light by day; neither for brightness shall the moon give light unto thee: but the Lord shall be unto thee an everlasting light, and thy God thy glory." The End. INDEX INDEX "Abiding Witness, The" 376 Abolitionists 103, 136 Abstinence, Total 194, 219 Academy, Cortland 24 sqq. Advice, Father's 65, 93 sq., 364 Ahmednagar (India) Church 343 Album (Autographs of Yale Class) 48 sqq. Alden, Rev. Dr. E. K 294 sq. AUen, Prof. A. V. G., Letter 270 sq., 288 American Board 261, 294 sqq., 369 sq. Ancestry 1 sqq. Andover Seminary 72, 81, 236, 285 Andover Controversy 367, 373 Annihilation Doctrine 231, 267 Anniversary Week in Boston 102 Apostolic Succession 121 "Appeal to Life," Book 286 Approbation to Preach 74 Arts and Letters, Institute of 340 Association, Mass. General 236 Athanasian Creed 125 Bacon, Rev. Dr. Leonard 57, 75, 196, 260, 263, 282 Baldwin, Gov. Simeon E 279 Bainbridge, N. Y 7 sqq. Baker, Mrs. Walter 105 sqq., 128, 142, 268, 301 Baker, Mrs. Walter, Letters to 132, 280, 281 Beecher, Dr. H. W 67, 102, 123 Blackington 236 Book-buying 102 Bradford Academy, Address 236 402 INDEX Bradford, Rev. Dr. A. H 261 Bradford, Simeon 19 Brewer, Cyrus 84 Broad-church Movement 120 Brown, John 1 04 Bushnell, Horace 56 sq., 67, 76 sq., 114 sqq., 141, 159 sq., 167, 345, 384 Bushnell, Horace, Book 303 sqq. Bushnell, Horace, Death of 207 Bushnell, Horace, Essay 333 sqq. Bushnell, Horace, Sermon 207 sqq. California 201 sqq. Candle-light Meetings 20, 328 Carpenter, F. B 21, 120, 126, 302 Carpenter, F. B., Letter to 125 sq. Carrier, Rev. A. H 47 Catholicity 125, 185 sq., 190, 366 Character of Dr. Munger 382 sqq. Church Symmetry 277 sq. Civic Ministry 240 "Cloud-land" 206 Committee on Liquor-problem 309 Congregational Polity 87 sqq., 124, 225, 263 sq. Continuity of Doctrine 256 Council at North Adams 228 sq. Council at New Haven 277, 365 Council, National Congregational, of Boston .... 161 sq., 186 sq. Council, National Congregational, of Oberlin 195 Covenants of Churches 188 sq. Creed (Athanasian) 125 Creed, Local, Denominational, Catholic 162 sqq. Creed, As Test or Testimony 164, 301 Creed, of Burial Hill 165, 184 sq. Creed, of 1883 295, 802 INDEX 403 Creeds, Growth of 1 82 sq. Dante 336 Deane, Prof. J. P 319, 361 Death of Dr. Hunger 352, 398 Debates 37, 43 sq. Declaration of Oberlin 195 Declarations vs. Creeds 165, 189 Degree, Harvard 339 Degree, Illinois 272 Degree, Yale . 350 Democracy in the Church 87 sqq. Denominationalism 193 sq., 223, 263 sq. DeQuincey, Critique 45 sq. Des Moines, Iowa, Meeting of A. B. C. F. M 296 sqq. Diman, J. L 175 Diary 96, 204 Dodge, Miss M. E 151 Dorchester, Mass 72, 83 sqq., 96 sqq., 129 Duncan, Hon. J. H 136 sq., 170 Duncan, Elizabeth K. (Mrs. Hunger) 136, 292 East Hartford 216 Eliot Church, Lawrence, Mass 177 sq. Eliot, John 1 sq., 178 Eliot, Joseph 3 Episcopacy 120 sq., 133 "Essays for the Day," Book 329 sq. Europe, First Visit 152 sqq. Europe, Second Visit 238 Evangelism. See Revivalism. "Experience, Witness from," Sermon 289 Fast Day Sermons 135 Fisher, Prof. George P 40, 61, 252, 297 "Freedom of Faith," Book 253 sqq., 371 Fugitive Slave Bill 43, 104 404 INDEX Funeral Fees 99 Funeral of Dr. Munger 354 Gladden, Rev. Dr. W 217, 235, 261 Gilder, R. W., Letter 269 Gordon, Rev. Dr. George A 320 sq., 345 Gordon, Rev. Dr. George A., Memorial Address of .... 377 sqq. Grotius 345 Haddam, Conn 4 sqq., 303 Haines, Miss 112 Hamilton, Gail. See Dodge, Miss M. E. Harris, Robert 201 Harris, Prof. Samuel 252, 297 Hartford, Conn 215 Hartford Seminary 286 Harvard Degree 339 Haverhill, Mass 132 sqq. Hawthorne 337 sq. Haynes, Rev. A. J 325 Home Culture 243 Homer, N. Y 9, 13 sqq., 79, 81, 83, 156, 303 Hopkins, Pres. Mark 228 sq., 244, 262, 268 Hospital at North Adams 242 Hudson, Ohio 28 Hunter, Dea. James 268 Hume, Rev. Dr. Robert A 293, 296 sqq., 343 Ik Marvel 344 Illinois College, Doctorate from 272 "Immortality," Address 212 sqq. "Immortality," Sermons 254 sq. Indian Orchard Council 220 Infirmity 397 Institute of Arts and Letters 840 Jamaica Plain, Mass 130, 182 Jenkins, Dr. J. L 50 sq., 61, 86, 92, 216, 285, 262 INDEX 405 Jessup, Dr. H. H 27, 50, 53 sq., 69, 92, 138 Jowett 112 Keep, Rev. John 17 sq. Labor Reform, Lecture 176 Labor Reform, Articles 198 Ladd, Prof. George T 252, 259 "Lamps and Paths," Book 249 Lawrence, Mass 177, 197 sq. Library at North Adams 241 sq. Lincoln, Assassination of 146 Marriage, First 137 Marriage, Second 311 Maurice, F. D 112, 120, 166 Maurice, F. D., Death of 180 sq. "Maxims," Article 204 Men's Club, United Church, New Haven 313, 363 Memorial Tablet 354, 377 Merriam, Rev. Jas. F 220 sqq. Miles, Rev. H. R., Letter from 360 Miller, A. B., Letter from 323 Ministerial Work in New Haven 307 sq. Mitchell, Donald (Ik Marvel) 344 Morris G. P., Appreciation 357 sqq. Mother, Letters to his 78, 82, 99, 151 Mother, Her Death 157 Mulford, Dr. Elisha 28, 70 sqq., 120, 139, 171 sq., 268 Mulford, Dr. Elisha, Letters to 104, 122, 130 sq., 148 sq., 153, 160, 166, 180, 244, 262, 266 Mulford, Dr. Elisha, Letters from 253 Mulford, Dr. Elisha, Death of 280 sq. Munger, Cynthia 9, 97, 158, 301 Munger, David Selden 9 sq., 158, 201 Munger, Ebenezer 1 sqq., 93 sq. Munger, Edward P 9, 81 sq., 97 sq., 132, 142, 158, 239 406 INDEX Munger, John Hezekiah 9, 81 sq., 97 sq., 132, 142, 156, 158, 238, 301 Hunger, Mary E. W 267 Munger, Rosanna M 109, 138, 176, 310 Munger, Rosanna M., Letter to 237 Munger, Rosanna M., Letter from 307 sqq. Munger, Thornton Taft 267 "Municipal Church," Sermon 315 Mt. Carmel, Conn 78, 80 "Nation, The"— Mulford— 139, 172 New Theology 254 sq., 265 sq., 371, 374, 392 Noble, J. W 49, 61 "Noble" Lecture at Cambridge 303 North Adams 216, 303 North Adams Council 228 Notebooks 63, 66 "On the Threshold," Book 243 sqq, "Optimist, The" (Rev. F. Lynch) 356 Ordination 86 sqq. Osgood, Miss H. K. (Mrs. Munger) 311 Osgood, Miss H. K. (Mrs. Munger), Letter from 362 sqq. Outlook, The, Appreciation in 359 Pacific Theological Seminary 212 Parish Work in New Haven 362 sq. Park, Prof. Edwards A 72 sq. Parker, Rev. Dr. E. P 215, 251, 355 Perrin, Prof. B (350), 355 Perry, Bliss, Letter from 322 Phillips, Wendell 103 Pierce, Hon. H. L 152, 302 "Plain Living and High Thinking," Booklet 303 Pleasant Sunday Afternoon Club 312 Porter, Prof. F. C 282 Porter, Pres. Noah 288, 282, 865 INDEX 407 Potwin, Rev. T. S 60, 215 Preachers Compared 291 Protestant Doctrine of Scripture Authority 256 sq. Providence, R. 1 167 sqq. Reconstruction (political) 171 Reconstruction (ecclesiastical) 191, 251 "Republic of God," Book— Mulford— 251 Retribution Doctrine 230 Retrospect of Ministry 341 Revivalism 4, 11 sq., 157, 159 Robertson, F. W 112, 118 sqq. Robertson, F. W., Essay on 174 Robinson, James T 252, 268 Robinson, John 257, 264 San Jose 202 sq. Sanders, Prof. F. K., Ordination Address 327 Schoolhouse in Homer 21 sq. Scripture, Christian Doctrine of 287 Scudder, H. E 182, 245, 247 "Seer, The" 378 sq. Selden Ancestry 5 sqq. Selden, Mrs. David 35, 108 Selden, Mrs. David, Death of 200 Seminary vs. Divinity School 285 Sermon Writing 99 sqq., 151 Smyth, Rev. Dr. Egbert C 296 sq., 368 Smyth, Rev. Dr. Newman 258, 266, 288 Smyth, Rev. Dr. Newman, Appreciation from 365 sqq. Sprague, Homer B 50 Storrs, Rev. Dr 91 "Strikes, Lesson of," Articles 198 Student Days 30 sqq. Style, Literary 387 sq. Taft, E. N 61, 268 408 INDEX Taft, Rev. A. N., Letter to 324 sq. Taylor, Dr. N. W 37, 39, 56, 68, 72, 74 sq. Thayer, Prof. Jos. H 268, 282, 288, 311 Todd, Rev. Dr. J. E 282 Tractarian Movement 123 sq. Transcript (North Adams) Extract 273 sq. Transcript (Boston) Extract 339 sq. "Truth through and by Life," Sermon 290 Union Cliurch, Providence, R. 1 169 Union Theological Seminary 69 sq. Unitarian Schism 183 sq., 192, 286, 331 Unitarianism 131, 218 United (North) Church, New Haven 68, 67, 272, 275 sqq., 303, 362 sq. United (North) Church, New Haven, Resignation from 315 sqq. Universalism 219 University and Church 332 Vermont Resolutions 260 Victoria, Queen, Appreciations 258 Vocal Training 1 00 Vose, Rev. Dr. J. G 52, 175, 293, 300 Walker, Rev. Dr. George L 260, 372 Walker, Prof. W., Appreciation 372 sq. War, The Civil 132 sqq. War, Defended 44 sq. Warner, Chas. Dudley, Letter 305 Watson, Rev. Dr. John (Ian Maclaren), compared 358 Western Reserve College 28 White, Andrew D 24, 55 sqq. White, Andrew D., Letter to 348 Whittier, J. G 249 Wilson, Woodrow, on Lincoln 64 Winthrop Club 174, 268 Women, Friendship of 109 sqq. INDEX 409 Woolsey, Pres. T. D 30, 36 sq., 57 sq. Woolworth, Dr. S. B 24 Yale Divinity School 60 sqq., 284 sq., 307, 389 Yale University, in 1847-55 30 sq. Yale University, Bicentennial 326 Yale University, Church in 38 sq. Yale University, Corporation, Election to 282 sq. Yale University, Corporation, Resignation from 342 sq. Yosemite Valley 215 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. >^CD LD Vlv'62MW T# 8 1962 6Mar'63fiV '"ES S qiSq- c^^T Frr7.irD LP i rro 85 19G3 tOAN REC.CIfiLNOV :9 78 LD 21A-50m-3,'6i; (C7097b10)476B General Library University of California Berkeley M. BERKELEY UBBARIES ill coobwasibT